The Power and the Glory
by Kenya Starflight
Summary: Sequel to Glory and Honor. When war threatens to erupt on Cybertron again just as new information on her uncle's fate comes to light, Glory must choose between chasing down answers regarding her past... and saving her family in the present.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note**

 _This is the third installment of a series involving my Decepticon OC, Glory. It is STRONGLY recommended that you read_ Thundercracker's Glory _and_ Glory and Honor _before reading this story; otherwise you'll probably have little to no idea what's going on._

 _Also, Season 4 (all three episodes of this) never happened in this timeline, so please don't inundate me with questions regarding what happened to the Headmasters or who Glory's Targetmaster partner is._

 _All that said... it's been awhile since I've written about Glory, but I'm excited to return to her universe and explore her story further. I hope the readers enjoy this journey as well!_

* * *

It was sound that returned first.

Nightwatch's optics refused to cooperate, transmitting only static despite repeated attempts to reboot them. But his audials came online perfectly functional, dutifully recording the snarl of flames and the strut-rattling thump of another explosion. The reek of smoke and ozone and overheated metal came next… then the pain, radiating through his chassis from his shredded wings and the mangled stumps of his right arm and leg.

It took a few seconds for his CPU to catch up with the rest of his systems and compute what had just happened. And when it finally clicked into place, he wished he'd just stayed offline in the first place. What had started out as an ordinary patrol at the edge of Decepticon territory had rapidly escalated to disaster… a disaster he'd rather not face at the moment.

 _Skystrike, Firestorm, come in! Repeat, Skystrike, Firestorm, come in!_

No answer. His trine-mates were either far out of range or in no shape to respond. Whatever was going on here, he was on his own.

It should have been simple routine. The border was always a dicey area for any Decepticon to patrol, but this sector had a reputation for being peaceful, even boring. The three of them had been relaxed and chatty as they had made their rounds, Firestorm cracking jokes and Skystrike offering to buy everyone a round of drinks at their favorite oilbar as soon as they finished up. Nightwatch had been about to accept Skystrike's offer or groan at Firestorm's latest pun – he wasn't sure which now – when the shots had been fired… and from there, everything was fire and chaos, and sudden blackness…

Footsteps clunked closer to the fallen Seeker, and he struggled to raise his head… only for the muzzle of a gun to ram into the back of his helm, shoving it back down.

"Found a live one, boss!"

"Fraggit, can't you losers even shoot a tin turkey down right?" That voice tugged at Nightwatch's CPU – he'd heard it somewhere before – but his memory banks failed to match a name or faceplate to the speaker.

"Two out of three ain't bad, right boss?" The first speaker shoved the gun harder into the back of Nightwatch's neck joint. "Besides, I kinda wanted to keep one online to mess around with. Just shooting 'em out of the sky doesn't feel like proper payback."

 _Ah… one of THOSE, then._ Nightwatch had heard the rumors… but he'd chosen to believe they were rookie tales blown all out of proportion. Surely such groups couldn't exist… not now…

"Get rid of him," grunted the "boss." "The longer he stays online, the more of a chance he's got to call for backup."

Oh… right. His pain-addled processor finally ground into gear. It was far too late to call for backup, but if nothing else the Air Commander had to know about this. The Decepticons had far too few fliers as it was – they could ill afford to lose another squad or trine here. And while he knew his own life was forfeit now – he was in no shape to defend himself at the moment – the least he could do was warn the others.

"You're no fun, boss," his captor grunted, and the gun shoved harder into his neck joint. "Say g'night, birdie."

He had time to fire off one transmission – an information packet directed straight to Decepticon headquarters – before the world went black in a blast of shattering pain.

* * *

It seemed that no matter how many mechs were in the crypts, these chambers remained curiously silent. It wasn't that no one dared make a sound here – conversations carried on, albeit in respectively hushed tones. But there was something about the construction of the vaulted corridors and the niches where mechs paid their respects to the fallen that seemed to absorb all sound, as if to ensure the dead remained undisturbed in their rest.

Silence had never sat well with Glory – she had always thrived on noise and music and some measure of chaos, and that hadn't changed even with her upgrade. But here, now, she savored the quiet.

The statue that graced Thundercracker's tomb gazed stoically ahead, arms folded over his chest, wings at a relaxed angle. She couldn't suppress a smile at the sight. Whoever had sculpted this statue hadn't captured a perfect likeness of her uncle – the optics were too rounded, the jawline too strong – but somehow that pose looked much like one Thundercracker would assume when standing at rest. Perhaps the artisan had met him, and striven to capture that stance, if nothing else.

 _I miss you,_ she thought, running her hand along the base of the statue. _I know you're somewhere better now… but I wish you could be here. I wish you could see me, and help me._

She was currently alone in this section of the crypts. The plan had been to bring Swift down and show her the tombs of Glory and Blitzwing's families, and perhaps find her own creators' tombs if they could. But Swift had been too terrified to enter, and in the end Blitzwing had decided to take her on a walk through one of the shopping districts while Glory paid her respects. They would try again another day, she supposed.

Her gaze drifted toward another set of statues – a Seeker and a tank-former, placed so close together they nearly shared a plinth. Through some twist of fate, her uncle's tomb had ended up directly across the corridor from the shared tomb of her parents. Her spark clenched tightly in its chamber as she crossed the hall to stand before the two figures. Surely it hadn't been that long since Piston and Windblade had fallen during the bombing of the labs… yet so much has happened since then that it seemed an eternity ago. She wasn't even sure she could remember what their voices sounded like.

And just a short distance away stood the statue commemorating the tomb of yet another loved one – Skywarp, just two niches down from Thundercracker. She didn't share programming with the black Seeker, and yet she had always regarded him as family, as another uncle. And somewhere down this corridor was yet another tomb, one she had never found the courage to visit – that of Whirlwind and Drillbit, Thundercracker and Windblade's creators, mechs she shared core programming with yet had never met.

 _How did it end up like this?_ she thought darkly, hugging herself against a sudden chill. _How did so many people I care about end up dead? It shouldn't have been like this… they should have been here to see the end of the war with me, to see peace come to Cybertron._

She shook her head and turned her attention back to her creators' tomb, resting her forehead against the cool metallic pedestal of their statue. It was no use dwelling on it, she told herself. Her family had joined the Well, and no amount of mourning on her part would bring them back. And they wouldn't have wanted her to wallow in the first place – they would want her to remember them, yes, but to also pick herself up and move on, to keep living.

They had all fought for a better Cybertron… the least she could do for them was keep fighting to make it better.

Blitzwing's voice on the radio interrupted her thoughts. _You done in there, kid?_

 _I'm on my way out. Is Swift all right?_

 _She's just fine – standing here watching a couple of street performers at the marketplace. You know how she is._

Glory chuckled softly. Swift was a normal sparkling in most respects, playful and full of energy, but when something caught her optic she could remain engrossed in it for a very long time, whether it was a holovid or a Seeker flight show or just a glitchmouse hunting for scraps on a sidewalk. She wasn't sure if it was just a curious nature, or if spending much of her early life in Shockwave's academy had deprived her of stimulation and she was trying to make up for it now.

 _I'll meet you at the market,_ she told him. _Just let me finish up here._

Blitzwing's frown was evident even over the comm. _Don't be in there too long, sweetspark. It's not healthy lurking there for so long._

She knew that… but she couldn't resist a final moment beside her parents' tombs, touching the feet of her mother and father's statues before walking out. Perhaps it wasn't healthy to dwell too long on the past… but she felt it was only right to pay her family the proper respects. They had all sacrificed so much for her, and she refused to forget that.

Finally she turned away from the tomb and walked on. No time to dawdle – she wanted to get back to Blitzwing and Swift and steal a few precious moments with them before returning to Polyhex for the meeting with Shockwave and the Autobot leaders. She could ill afford to linger too long in the past. She had duties now, and a very-much-alive family who needed her attention. Ghosts of the past would simply have to wait.

* * *

 _The more things change, the more they stay the same._

Why a human adage would be passing through his CPU right now, Shockwave could only speculate. Especially this one in particular – it was a contradiction of terms, an oxymoron of the sort that normally irritated his logic processor to no end. The universe was in a continual state of flux, governments and cultures and entire species forever altering themselves or collapsing to give rise to new ones. It only stood to reason that the only thing that ever remained constant was change itself.

Then again, the seemingly contradictory human saying had some merit. This he concluded as he patiently waited for his Air Commander to switch off the holo of a cartoony-looking star dragon that cavorted across the conference table.

"Sorry, sir!" the violet Seeker said for the fifth time as she finally managed to shut the holo down. "I must have gotten some of Swift's personal holodisks mixed up with mine."

"Apology accepted, Commander Glory," he replied, nodding. "We will forget this… distraction and continue with the briefing as planned."

A snicker rose from the Autobot end of the conference table. Shockwave felt his headfins start to quiver in annoyance, but stilled them with a silent command. It wouldn't do to let the Prime's officers ruffle him. Not now of all times.

"Sounds like you got a cute kid there," Jazz noted, grinning widely despite the cautionary glare Optimus Prime leveled at him.

Glory's faceplates flushed with heat, but she gave a polite nod toward the carbot as she slid a second holodisk into the projector. "Thank you. But we have something more serious to report than sparkling antics today."

Shockwave nodded, both in agreement with his Air Commander and silent approval. The young Seeker hadn't let the distraction derail her report, and had deftly steered the conversation back to the topic at hand. Very good.

It had been over five stellar cycles (he highly disapproved of the younger generation's adaptation of the human term "year") since the signing of the Great Treaty that had ended the war for good. Cybertron was finally on the long road to recovery, Autobots and Decepticons joining forces to repair and defend their planet, securing it for future generations. Cities were being rebuilt, and for the first time in vorns new sparks were being drawn from Vector Sigma as mechs, femmes, and bonded pairs finally found the courage and resources to create new life once more. It was a time of new hope, a new beginning for their kind and their world.

The past five cycles had not been without their upsets, however. Millions of cycles' worth of war didn't just end overnight, and even that short time of peace had been marred by protests, anger, and even outbreaks of violence. There were still Decepticons who believed that their empire had been cheated out of its rightful rule, and resented ceding most of the control of Cybertron's government to the Autobots. And there were Autobots who had no faith in the Decepticons' promise to keep their warlike programming in check, and distrusted the decision to put their kind in control of Cybertron's military.

It was a difficult period of transition for their kind, and one that would remain rocky for some time to come. But after so many vorns of their world and their kind being torn apart by war, even this turbulent time was a welcome change for many. It wasn't perfect, but at least it was far closer to peace than they could ever have dreamed.

Holos flared to life once again, this time depicting a star system – not Cybertron's, though Shockwave recognized it as belonging in the same stellar cluster. Glory nodded, relief evident in her features, and gestured toward the system's fourth planet as it glowed red.

"We received reports of a mining expedition in the Kalliope system being harassed by Quintesson drones," she explained. "I sent a division to investigate. Commander Stormrunner reports that they cleared out a sizable nest of Sharkticon drones and captured the Quintessons leading them. They're bringing them back for questioning as we speak."

"Good luck getting anything out of them," huffed Kup, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table. "Five mouths on the things and none of them ever say anything useful."

Shockwave knew by now that the best way to deal with the old Autobot's disrespect was to simply ignore him completely. "Any casualties sustained?"

"Two fliers, five ground units." Glory spoke evenly, though her voice caught slightly at the end. To everyone else gathered at this table, the number was a mere statistic… but to the Air Commander they were names, mechs and femmes she had known and spoken to, perhaps even befriended. Shockwave considered such closeness to one's own troops a weakness, one Glory would have to learn to overcome if she wanted to be a truly effective leader, but for now he let it slide.

"Good work, Glory," Optimus told her. "We can ill afford to lose those mines right now, with Cybertron needing resources for rebuilding. Have there been any other Quintesson attacks reported in the past quartex?"

"No major skirmishes," she replied. "At least six or seven small incidents aside from the Kalliope attack, none fatal. Their drones are stubborn but not very bright, and the Quints themselves are quick to flee when they don't have their Sharkticons to hide behind."

"It sounds like the situation is largely under control," Ultra Magnus pointed out. "So why did this meeting require the entire Autobot command? We have a great deal to do, and can't waste our time being debriefed on every single incident."

Shockwave felt his headfins jerk in response, and he forced them to be still. Trust an Autobot to be so short-sighted. "These incidents have been growing more frequent as time passes, Ultra Magnus, and striking closer to Cybertron proper. I calculate that we can expect a full-fledged attack on Cybertron within the next few cycles, unless we act now to stop it."

"The Quintessons have always made it clear that they believe they have ownership over our kind," Prime replied. "But I hardly think they will go after Cybertron itself. They are not a warlike species, and the Hate Plague decimated their kind enough that it would make more sense for them to focus on rebuilding their own world than going after ours."

"Since when did Quintessons act logically?" Jazz piped up.

"Jazz," Ultra Magnus snapped.

"He has a point," Glory added. "We're talking about a race that chose to blow up their own homeworld just to make a statement. They may be highly intelligent, but they have the common sense of a Dinobot."

"That will be enough, Glory," Shockwave ordered, leveling a cool look at the Seeker. She grinned back, entirely unrepentant, but at least held her vocalizer.

"What exactly were you proposing to do about this?" Kup demanded. "You spoke of 'doing something to stop it.' Do we really wanna know what you have in mind?"

Shockwave's gaze turned to Glory again, this time exchanging a questioning look with her. They had discussed this many times with Soundwave and other officers, and agreed that it was the best course of action. Whether they could convince the Autobots to see things their way remained to be seen… but there was nothing to be gained by keeping silent.

Glory nodded slightly, and Shockwave nodded back and turned to address the Prime and his lackeys again.

"We propose a direct attack on the Quintessons' current base of operations," Shockwave replied. "That we find and eradicate them before they can strike."

Prime's optics flashed slightly. "That course of action is unacceptable. We're still recovering from a war – to start another war with another race, unprovoked, would be ludicrous."

"Unprovoked?" Glory retorted. "The Quintessons have been harassing us for years. They've caused dozens of fatalities in the past five years. If that's not provoking, I don't know what is!"

"Then we better our defenses," Ultra Magnus countered. "We put the Decepticons in charge of our military for Cybertron's protection, not to pick fights across the galaxy."

"This _is_ about Cybertron's protection," Shockwave replied, headfins flattening back in anger. "This is about eliminating a threat before it becomes untenable, not instigating a needless war. Allow us to interrogate our Quintesson captives and learn the location of their base… and allow us to destroy it before they can attack Cybertron."

"This is absurd," Ultra Magnus declared, narrowing his optic shutters until mere slits of blue showed through. "Are the Decepticons really so desperate for a fight that they'll stir up hostilities with another race just to satisfy their violent urges?"

Shockwave's headfins pinned back even further, but he managed to rein in his anger before responding in a way he might regret. Glory, however, didn't even bother trying to hold back.

"You think this is about _urges?_ " she demanded, slamming her hands against the conference table. "This is about saving lives! Do you really think the Quintessons are going to be satisfied just making quick hit-and-run attacks on our outposts and colonies? They've made it clear that they want Cybertron for themselves, and they'll do anything to get it! And you'll just have us sit back and let them when we can do something to stop it?"

"Glory," Shockwave cut in, but his Air Commander forged on. He focused on cycling deeply through his vents and waited for her to finish.

"Maybe you don't care because it's only Decepticons who are losing their lives in these attacks. Well, _we_ care! And quite frankly, I'm tired of just standing by and watching my troops suffer and deactivate when we can solve this problem once and for all!"

Prime regarded the young Air Commander with an air of amusement… and perhaps some pride as well. Shockwave wondered at that – why should the Autobot leader concern himself with a Decepticon leader, especially one so intent on embarrassing herself in front of his officers?

"Rest assured, Air Commander, that I do care very much about the lives of Decepticons," Prime told her. "And I'm glad to see that you care about the lives of your troops as well, rather than seeing them as weapons or tools. But we must look at the lives of all involved… and I would rather not see the lives of any sentient beings lost if I can help it."

Glory clenched her jaw. "Is that why Galvatron still rots in prison while you continually delay his execution?"

"Glory!" Shockwave snapped, his patience finally reaching its end. "That will be quite enough out of you. Be seated."

Glory shot him a glare that clearly said _you know it's true,_ but dropped heavily into her seat.

"Man, I ain't had this much fun listenin' to a 'Con Commander run their vocalizer since Starscream," Jazz noted, earning glowers from both Prime and Glory.

"We will take your request into consideration," Prime said at last. "I would rather not drag Cybertron into another war so soon… but I also understand that all too often the correct course of action is the most unpleasant. Let us meet again in a deca-cycle's time to discuss this further. Bring as much information as you can on all Quintesson attacks and incidents, including whatever you gain from questioning our current prisoners."

"You're seriously not-" began Ultra Magnus.

Prime cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I want more information before we make a final decision, Magnus. I'm not going to say no just because it's a Decepticon request. This is about what's best for Cybertron's survival, not merely keeping the peace at all costs."

Shockwave nodded, some of his disappointment ebbing. The outcome of this meeting had been worse than he had hoped, but somewhat better than he had expected. If nothing else, they at least had time to gather the evidence they needed to fully convince the Autobots of the best course of action.

Glory still looked fit to spit fire, though. There was little he could do about that, of course. She was certainly a passionate femme, and unafraid to speak her mind… though both those traits were as apt to get her into trouble as they were to help their cause.

The doors to the conference room slid open, and a green mech burst in, fans whirring at top speed as he struggled to cool overheated systems.

"Beatbox?" Glory's anger snuffed in an instant. "Beatbox, what's wrong?"

"Fraggin' punks," Kup grumbled. "This is supposed to be a classified meeting!"

"Lord Shockwave… Commander Glory…" The cassette-carrier struggled to collect himself enough to deliver his message. "We just got word of an attack."

"Another one?" Glory's hands clenched into fists. "What outpost? How many Quints were involved?"

"No Quints… and no outpost." Beatbox's face – what was visible of it under his visor – was a study in horror. "A patrol flight was shot down at the border near Praxus. Nightwatch's trine were wiped out."

Glory's jaw dropped, and the color faded from her optics until they were nearly white with shock. Prime jerked up straight, hands clenching, and Jazz swore long and creatively. Even Ultra Magnus and Kup had the good grace to look stunned at the news.

Shockwave, for his part, didn't even bother trying to keep his headfins from twitching madly in response. Things could never just be simple for once, could they?


	2. Updraft

**NOTE:** It is recommended, but not required, that you read the one-shot story _Soundwave's Echo_ before reading this chapter. It isn't necessary to understand what's going on, but it does set up some of the background events of this chapter.

The character of Updraft belongs to Paradise Parrot, who is beta-reading this fic and has been extremely gracious in providing feedback. Thank you!

* * *

By the time Glory and Shockwave reached Praxus the scene of the trine's death had already been cordoned off, bright violet-pink lasers marking out a section of the road that hugged the Autobot/Decepticon border wall. Even from the air, it was a tank-churning sight – black blotches marring the street and wall from stray blaster fire, chunks of components too charred to be immediately recognizable scattered about, streaks of energon and other fluids painting the paving alloy like some deranged surrealist's work of art. Autobot police officers were already on scene, tagging anything that looked remotely important or herding the gawking crowds back, and one lone Decepticon agent stood silent vigil over the body of one of the fallen Seekers, gazing skyward as if looking to the heavens for some answer to what had happened here.

Glory wanted to dive down immediately and assess the situation for herself. But Nightwatch's trine had fallen on the Autobot side of the wall, and even Decepticon officers had to undergo the proper scans and inspections before crossing the border. She and Shockwave touched down on the Helex side of the wall and scanned the ID chips in their wrists, then waited until an Autobot border agent cleared them to pass. Shockwave was silent and outwardly calm during the whole procedure, but Glory couldn't help but twitch her wings in annoyance. Did these agents submit Autobot officers to the same protocol, she wondered…

Streetwise met them on the other side of the wall, and he offered a respectful salute before motioning them over to the crime scene. At least the Protectobots were among the Autobots who didn't seem to harbor any hatred toward the Decepticons, or at least didn't show it openly. Except Blades… but if Hot Spot was to be believed, Blades hated everyone pretty much equally, so Glory didn't take his animosity personally.

"We've marked everything that looks like evidence already," Streetwise explained. "And we've got recorded testimony from several witnesses. No suspects yet, but then, the shooters were long gone by the time we were able to get here."

Glory nodded at the Protectobot. "Can you tell us what happened here? The report was rather garbled when we got it." Poor Beatbox… he'd been so hysterical. Despite being a cassette-carrier like Soundwave, he had none of the Communications Officer's calmness and steadiness.

"Roughly, though of course we won't know the full story until we catch the fraggers responsible," Streetwise replied, gesturing toward a few nearby buildings that blazed merrily away, a handful of Autobots working to douse the flames. "We got reports of a fire in a few warehouses on the border, then while our team was en route we saw a Decepticon patrol taking fire and going down. As far as we can figure, the scumbuckets responsible for this started the fire to draw the Seekers' attention, then plugged them. And from the look of things, they finished at least one of them off at close range."

Glory's gaze moved from the flaming buildings to the chassis sprawled a handful of meters away, its cranial unit obliterated by a point-blank blast. The plating had long since gone gray with death, but she recognized the deep scratches raking across the right wing – battle scars earned during a confrontation with a Sweep. The Seeker had refused to fix them, claiming they were a memento of the Decepticons' victory over Galvatron.

 _Nightwatch…_ The black-and-orange Seeker had been a quiet sort, much like her uncle had been, and had been one of her most loyal fliers and a strong ally while she settled into her role of Air Commander. To see him felled so brutally was a hard blow. Even more so knowing just what he had left behind with his death…

"We shall take over the investigation from this point forward," Shockwave replied. "This is a Decepticon matter."

"No offense, but I'd say it's an Autobot matter too," Hot Spot cut in as he strode up to join the conversation, his plating streaked with soot and flame retardant. "This happened on our territory, so it makes sense that there'd be a joint investigation, right?"

Glory scowled. "The fallen are ours. Let us handle this." She didn't need to point out that she didn't put it past the Autobots to pull a cover-up if it turned out one of their own had attacked Nightwatch's trine – her tone said it all.

"We don't want to tamper with evidence or anything," Hot Spot insisted, reading Glory's tone right away. "Just assist wherever we can. We do have more access to a potential suspect list, after all, seeing as it's likely the killer is still on this side of the border."

Shockwave nodded. "Then we will accept the Autobot's aid in our investigation. But the bodies and any gathered evidence will still be transported to my laboratory. I trust the Autobots will send a medic or scientist of their own to aid in the autopsy?"

"We'll send First Aid and Perceptor," Hot Spot replied. He inclined his head toward Glory before turning back to the blaze.

Shockwave turned to Glory, his optic dimming in the closest thing he had to a reproachful glower. "Such animosity is uncalled for, Air Commander."

"Autobots had to be responsible for this," she countered. "How do we know they won't find some way to sabotage the investigation to protect their own?"

"The Autobots have been cooperative thus far," Shockwave retorted. "Your hostility is unwarranted, and could damage the investigation."

She clenched her fists, trying to rein in her anger. "The Autobots shouldn't be interfering in our affairs in the first place, sir. Why do we continue to let them micromanage us? As if we don't know how to select our own leaders or handle crimes against our own-"

"That will be quite enough, Air Commander," Shockwave snapped.

She recognized that tone from when she'd been a sparkling – the tone of an adult pushed to the end of their patience – and she bit back the rest of her retort. Part of her seethed at being treated like a child by her superior, but another part flushed hot with embarrassment – he was treating her like a child because she was letting her temper get the best of her like a child.

"I am fully aware that you don't like the Autobots," Shockwave went on, voice stern but no longer so hard. "Few Decepticons truly do. And I know you lost a great deal at their hands… but know that you are hardly the only one in that respect. I do not expect you to let go of old grudges immediately and welcome the Autobots with open arms, but I _do_ expect you to have the self-restraint necessary to not let those grudges interfere with our continued alliance with them."

"Yes sir," she replied, voice soft with shame.

Shockwave nodded once, sharply, before turning to regard the crime scene. Nightwatch's body lay closest, with Skystrike's chassis lying at the end of a swath of torn-up street some distance away – he must have hit the ground at high speed and skidded to a stop. Firestorm's body lay slumped against the wall itself, his faceplates frozen in an expression of dumbfounded shock. First Aid crouched at Firestorm's side – rather useless, Glory thought, though at least he looked to be examining the wounds for a definite cause of death rather than actually repairing an offline chassis.

"What are we going to tell Stardust?" The words were out before she could hold them back.

"The truth," Shockwave replied. "That his adoptive father died in the line of duty, serving the Decepticon cause to the end. And that his sacrifice is to be honored."

She frowned again. Those words would hardly be comfort to the little sparkling, especially since he'd already lost his original creators in the war before Nightwatch had taken him in. Those same words had rang hollow in her own audials when she'd heard them upon her parents' deaths and Thundercracker's deactivation… she could only imagine what a blow they would be to Stardust.

"What's to become of him?" she asked.

"Unknown at this time," Shockwave replied. "Stardust's creators had no family to turn him over to, but perhaps Nightwatch has relatives remaining that can take over guardianship of him until his upgrade." His headfins cocked back in an angle that she swore indicated amusement. "I find it curious that you would concern yourself with his fate."

"I have a sparkling of my own, sir," she reminded him. "I can't help but worry." She was sure Shockwave worried in his own way about Stardust – he'd been a guardian of sorts over him while he'd been a foundling at Shockwave's academy – but as leader of the Decepticons Shockwave had greater problems to focus on than a single re-orphaned sparkling.

A flash of red caught her attention, and she focused her gaze on the Decepticon standing guard over Skystrike's chassis. It was a Seeker, but one she didn't recognize – crimson and gold, with dark faceplates and vivid ruby optics. She stood a good head shorter than Glory, and her armor was far more streamlined and sleek than the usual Seeker's, obviously built more for speed and style than military conformity. If she realized she had attracted the notice of the Air Commander, she gave no sign.

Glory strode up to the red Seeker. "Hello?"

The femme turned… and recognition flashed in her optics. "Air Commander," she responded, raising one hand in a salute.

"At ease," Glory assured her. "No need for formalities right now. I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate someone here at the moment to help honor our fallen."

The Seeker's mouth quirked in a wry grin. "Someone has to keep the rubberneckers from getting too close. Even the dead deserve some respect, right?"

Glory nodded. "I don't believe I've met you. I thought I knew all the Seekers on Cybertron."

"I haven't been here very long," she explained. "My creator and I arrived from one of the colonies a few decacycles ago, and I was immediately sent to Kalliope on assignment. I'd just gotten back when I heard news of the shooting, and came to offer my assistance." She offered a hand. "Updraft of Velocitron."

"Glory of Polyhex," Glory replied, clasping Updraft's hand in hers. "No offense, but I thought Velocitronians were mostly racers."

Updraft smirked. "'Mostly' is a far cry from 'entirely,' Air Commander. Some of us much prefer wings to wheels."

That was hard to argue with. "Well, we're very happy you decided to come to Cybertron. We could use more good fliers, especially given current circumstances." A name mentioned earlier in the conversation returned to her. "You were on Kalliope… you fought against the Quints?"

"I wouldn't call it much of a fight, but yes," Updraft replied with a slight laugh. "Do all their drones go down like tin cans in a fight?"

"Pretty much."

"We will require a full report of the battle from you later," Shockwave cut in, stepping up at that moment. "In the meantime, you will answer primarily to Air Commander Glory for the foreseeable future. I trust you've already found accommodations."

Glory rolled her optics. Trust the purple cyclops to be all business.

"I'm currently staying with my creators in Rodion," Updraft replied, clasping her hands behind her back. "Knock Out and Breakdown. They operated a mod shop on Velocitron and were hoping to re-establish their business here."

Shockwave regarded the red Seeker for an uncomfortably long moment before replying. "You came with the recent influx of immigrants from the colonies, then. I was under the impression Velocitron was neutral."

"Not everyone in the neutral colonies was exactly neutral," Glory reminded him. "We're both proof of that."

"True enough," Shockwave replied, and elected to leave it at that. "Report to headquarters to give a full report of the Kalliope conflict, Updraft. Glory, you will escort the medical transport to my laboratory. I doubt the attackers will try to hinder the investigation, but we'll take no chances."

"Yes, sir."

Shockwave turned and walked toward First Aid, who stood to address him. Once Glory was sure he was out of audial-shot she turned to Updraft. "Sorry about him. He's a decent leader, but so by-the-book it can be infuriating at times."

Updraft gave a mischievous grin. "I was about to ask how long he's had that steel girder wedged up his tailpipe."

By all rights Glory should have called Updraft to task for speaking so disrespectfully about their Commander… but instead she burst out laughing. At least someone had the courage to say what everyone was thinking.

"I think we're going to get along fine," Glory told her. "But you'd better get going. Shockwave will be back at headquarters soon, and he won't want to be kept waiting. We'll talk more later."

Updraft nodded. "It was good to meet you, Air Commander."

"Just Glory."

"Glory, then… I'll see you around."

The red Seeker stepped back and took to the air, transforming and soaring over the wall toward Polyhex. Glory watched her go before moving to help load the bodies into the transport. Meeting a new flier didn't exactly make this whole mess any better, but it improved her mood to some degree. With two Seekers killed in action on Kalliope and Nightwatch's trine wiped out, they were going to need all the air support they could get – especially if the Quintessons launched their attack anytime soon.

In the meantime, though, she had a job to do. And once she had seen Nightwatch, Skystrike, and Firestorm delivered to the labs, she had a much worse task ahead of her…

* * *

Blitzwing would have had his T-cog removed with a rusty prybar – without being shut down first – before admitting it, but he didn't mind being a caretaker nearly as much as he thought he would. True, it meant being pulled from active duty, which rankled the warrior in him deeply, and it meant no small amount of teasing from Astrotrain and Steelwing. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to resent his sudden transformation into a father figure.

It didn't hurt things that Swift wasn't nearly as wild and full of mischief as Glory had been. Perhaps some of that had to do with upbringing – Glory had been kept on a loose leash aboard the _Nemesis_ as a sparkling, pretty much allowed to run free and in the company of the Decepticons' most notorious troublemakers, while Swift had spent her early years in the far more structured environment of Shockwave's academy. But Blitzwing suspected that even if Swift had been given free rein to roam as a little one, she still would have been a calmer, more observant child. Not that she didn't enjoy the company and chaos of the cassettes, but she also enjoyed quiet time and more sedate activities such as reading or drawing.

Or, as luck would have it, video games, something Blitzwing was all too happy to share with her. True, she seemed to prefer watching someone else play over actually playing herself, but it was still an activity they could enjoy together.

"Fight or spare this one?" asked Blitzwing, pointing to the creature onscreen.

Swift twisted her head around to give him the most reproachful glare a sparkling could muster. "Spare, Daddy! We're not killing anyone!"

"Hey, I just thought I'd ask." He pressed ACT and scrolled through the available options, trying to puzzle out which one would let him resolve the encounter peacefully. "Astrotrain says you've already played the pacifist route twice with him, so I figured you might want a change of pace this time."

"I LIKE the pacifist route," she insisted, and snuggled into his lap before returning her attention to the screen. "Do you wanna hint?"

He smiled and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Nah, let me figure this one out myself. I'll tell you if I want hints."

The door to their apartment slid open, and Swift wriggled down out of his lap and dashed away. "Mama!"

"Hey, don't leave me to fight this guy by myself!" Blitzwing called after her with a laugh.

"Mama!" Swift shouted again. Then, in a much softer voice, "Mama? What's wrong?"

That made Blitzwing's tanks lurch, and he pushed away from the computer console and hurried to the entryway. Something must have happened at the command meeting, though what he wasn't sure. Glory didn't always tell him what they would be discussing at said meetings – they might be bondmates, but even the bonds of conjux endura didn't trump government confidentiality. The most he'd be able to do was just comfort her and let her talk if she could.

Glory was on her knees in the apartment's entryway, clutching Swift tightly to her chest. Her wings shook as she struggled to keep a grip on her emotions, and though she wasn't crying, her optics shimmered with unshed cleanser. Swift wrapped her arms around Glory, bewildered but wanting to help her feel better in any way possible.

"Glory…" Blitzwing hurried over and knelt beside her, hugging both of them close. "Glory, whatever happened, we're here for you, okay? And if those Auto-fraggers did something to make you cry, I'll go hunt them down and take it out of their plating."

Glory managed a tight laugh at that. "No, Blitz… don't get yourself in trouble on my account. And it wasn't Prime or his officers." She wriggled out of his grasp and released Swift. "I'm sorry… it's been a rough evening. I interrupted something, didn't I?"

"Nothing super-important," Blitzwing replied. "Swift was just showing me a game Astrotrain introduced her to. Somethin' called _Undertale._ "

That got a faint smile out of Glory. "That game? I didn't think Astrotrain played human games."

"It's fun, Mama," Swift insisted. "You meet monsters and you can either fight them or become friends with them! But you get a happier ending if you make friends, even though Astro likes to fight 'em because he says you get the best boss that way, but I like the happy ending best…"

Glory laughed again, this time more easily, and she patted Swift's shoulder. "You'll have to show it to me sometime. But not tonight."

Swift nodded. "Somethin' happened, huh? Was it bad?"

Glory sighed, and Blitzwing was struck by how much older she suddenly looked. Even as an upgraded Seeker she had always seemed so young, so bright and idealistic and unmarked by everything she had gone through. But her command position weighed heavily on her shoulders, and there were times that Blitzwing worried that her duties as an officer would wear away everything that had made him fall in love with her… everything that made her Glory.

"There was an attack at the border," she said softly. "We lost three Seekers."

Blitzwing sucked in a sharp intake of air. "Someone we know?"

Glory's optics flashed. "Blitzwing, I know every Seeker under my command. Of course it's someone we know." Her tone gentled as she looked back down at Swift. "You remember Stardust?"

Swift nodded. "We went to his house a few days ago to play games."

"Swift… Stardust's father died today. Him and his trine."

Swift wore a mask that covered her mouth and olfactory sensor, unusual for a sparkling her age… but her optics flickered with emotion. "He… died? Why?"

"We still don't know." She took Swift's shoulders in her hands and squeezed lightly. "But we're going to find out. In the meantime, Stardust is going to need us all to be understanding, okay? He'll need his friends to help him. That includes you, okay?"

She nodded. "Is he gonna come stay here?"

Glory hesitated. "We don't know yet, sweetspark. He's at Soundwave's house right now. The cassettes and Echo are helping him right now… but we'll have to arrange for you to go visit soon."

Swift hugged tightly against Glory, tucking her face into her neck. "Tomorrow?"

"We'll see." She hugged her again. "Go pick up your toys and get ready for bed. We'll talk more in the morning."

"'Kay." She squeezed Glory one more time for good measure, then trotted off.

Blitzwing folded his arms over his chest. "You're thinking of bringing Nightwatch's kid here to stay with us, aren't you? I heard it, even if you didn't say it out loud."

Glory sighed and crossed her own arms over her chest, hugging herself as if suddenly cold. "I don't know… I desperately want to, but I don't know if that's best for him or not. Blitz… I had to break the news to him. I had to tell a sparkling that his parents weren't coming home. Do you know how hard that was? Especially when I've had to go through that?"

He didn't know… but he felt it was best not to answer that. His relations with his creator had been so strained that he hadn't so much as batted an optic shutter upon hearing Hightower had suffered a catastrophic malfunction and died at his own desk. Then again, he'd been well into his upgrade at that point, hardly the child that Glory was when she'd lost her own creators and, later, her uncle.

"He's devastated," she went on, looking stricken. "This is the second time he's lost his family. I know how that feels, and I've wanted so badly to make sure another sparkling won't go through that… but I couldn't stop it…"

"Kid, please." He swept her up in his arms again, holding her tightly. "Don't blame yourself, all right? This isn't your fault."

"I sent Nightwatch out on that patrol," she protested. "I thought a border assignment would be far safer than sending him to Kalliope or any of the colonies. He was so grateful for it too… we both thought he'd be safe…"

" _Kid._ " He tightened his grip on her. "This is _not_ your fault. You had no idea this would happen. The only one responsible for Nightwatch's death is whatever glitch pulled the trigger."

She gradually relaxed in his grip, but didn't seem entirely convinced by his words. It was a shame, Blitzwing thought, that she took so much responsibility on her shoulders at such a young age. Maybe the Autobots considered it a good thing that she worried over the safety and welfare of every one of her troops, but it just worried him. Not that he necessarily considered it a flaw… but if she grieved like this every time she lost troops in combat, she was going to burn herself out fast.

Finally she pulled away, optics dim. "I should go say goodnight to Swift. I can tell this has bothered her more than she lets on."

"I'll go with you," Blitzwing volunteered. "And hey… everything's gonna be all right, Glory. Don't fret so much."

"I'll try… but it's hard. There's so much going on right now…" She shook her head. "I can't talk about a lot of it, but things are getting rough out there."

"All the more reason to enjoy the moments of peace we get while they last," Blitzwing reminded her. "C'mon… let's say goodnight. Swift'll want you to read another chapter of her book before she recharges."

Glory nodded, and a bit more of the tension in her wings drained. "Thank you, Blitzwing. For everything."

"Hey, I'd be a bad conjux if I didn't take care of you," he chuckled, and steered her toward Swift's room. Once the sparkling was tucked in for the night, he wanted some quiet time of his own with Glory. Her duties kept them apart far too often, and he wanted to make the most of their time together.

* * *

When Shockwave and Glory had set about finding homes for the remaining sparklings from the old Academy, Motormaster and his Stunticons hadn't even crossed their minds as appropriate caretakers. They were practically sparklings themselves, younger than even Glory, and their mental states – which even the most charitable of mechs would call "unbalanced" – put them even further out of the running. But when Motormaster had learned that Swindle, Onslaught, and Hook had all been assigned guardianship of sparklings of their own, he had taken it as a personal insult. What was good enough for the Combaticons and the Constructicons, after all, was surely good enough for HIS team.

Shockwave had at first said no when Motormaster stormed into the conference room and demanded his team be made caretakers. He had informed the Stunticon commander that he was simply too young to be considered (though thankfully he was wise enough to leave out the "mental instability" factor). Motormaster had mulled that over for a grand total of two seconds before delivering his retort.

" _You gave the KID a sparkling! Slag, you let the KID be fraggin' AIR COMMANDER! Why not let us do this?"_

And so it was that the Stunticons were made temporary guardians over Ricochet… and to everyone's surprise, Ricochet had taken so well to them, and they to him, that the situation was made permanent. The mech at the Hall of Records had tried to protest when all five of them had insisted on signing their names to the adoption records, but Glory had strongly advised that he not say anything if he didn't want five very angry mechs on his case.

To everyone's shock, the Stunticons had taken to parenthood surprisingly well. They were fiercely protective of their little charge, escorting him everywhere as if expecting him to be snatched away at any moment, and despite having a generally irresponsible attitude toward everything else, they took his care seriously. Ricochet, for his part, adored all five of them, and didn't seem at all bothered by Breakdown's paranoia or Dead End's morbidness – if anything, he seemed to take it in stride.

Tonight the six of them were gathered around the vidscreen in their apartment, whooping and cheering over a Velocitron race broadcast. Or rather, four of them were cheering – one was pretending to ignore the race in favor of polishing his armor (though he snuck a covert glance at the screen every so often) and another was fussing over the sparkling.

"Guys, it's WAY past Ricky's bedtime!" Breakdown insisted. "He's gotta get his defrag cycle in or he could be at risk of internal glitching!"

"You quit YOUR glitching!" Dragstrip retorted, flinging an empty cube in Breakdown's general direction. "One late night isn't gonna kill him!"

"You hope," Dead End intoned.

"You hush!" Dragstrip fired back. "Sometimes I swear you're a pessimist just to get Breaky riled up!"

"Someone on this team has to be the brutally honest one," Dead End informed him. "Everyone is doomed, even the sparkling. Pretending otherwise is just a lie in the end."

"Why you gotta be such a spoilsport during the Benefit 500?" demanded Wildrider. "I swear, we've been lookin' forward to this all cycle and you gotta ruin-"

"EVERYONE SHUT THE SLAG UP!" roared Motormaster.

Breakdown shrieked, but the bellow had its intended effect – the Stunticons shut up, returning their attention to the race.

Ricochet, perched on Motormaster's knee, giggled softly. "You guys are silly."

Motormaster rested a hand on the copper-and-orange sparkling's shoulder. "Quiet, Ricky," he told him, more gently this time. "They're hittin' the final laps. We don't wanna miss this."

Ricochet nodded and turned his attention back to the screen… just as the picture began to glitch out. The image of the light-blue Autobot racer at the head of the pack fizzled out, replaced by a silhouetted figure.

"Nooooooooo!" howled Wildrider. "Not during the big finish!" He hurled a package of aluminum chips at the screen. "Frag you!"

"What the scrap?" demanded Dragstrip. "This some kinda big news announcement?"

"It can't be," Breakdown insisted. "They wouldn't have the announcer's face in shadow…"

The darkened figure onscreen – an overly bulky mech, his alt mode not readily apparent from his body shape – raised both hands skyward like an athlete hailing to the audience for applause. When he spoke, his voice was distorted and heavily modulated, not unlike Soundwave's.

" _The time has come."_

"What's going on?" Ricochet asked, craning his neck to look up at Motormaster.

"I dunno," he replied, "but we're gonna find out."

" _The time has come!"_ the figure repeated. _"Time for Cybertron to purge the corruption and impurities that are tainting it beyond repair! Time for good Autobots everywhere to rise up and destroy the Decepticons, the ones who would corrode our grand civilization from within!"_

"Oh, one of _these,_ " Dead End groaned. "If the programming stations can't keep these Autobot extremists from hijacking the airwaves, what good are they?"

" _We have been fools to allow them among our numbers for so long. Even as we sit back and enjoy our so-called Golden Age, they plot treachery and dissent at every turn. They only await the right moment to stab us all in the back and bring back an era of oilshed and tyranny! They will not listen to reason! They will never change their violent ways! So I call upon the Autobots to strike back and defend what is ours!"_

The camera panned away from the figure to a blazing warehouse fire… and a scene of carnage. Three Seekers, all shot down and very obviously dead, one with his head blown clear off his shoulders. Breakdown took one look at the image and ducked behind the couch to empty his fuel tank.

Motormaster credited himself for his speed… but even he was surprised at how fast his hand came up to cover Ricochet's optics. Son of Stunticons or not, no sparkling should have to look at THAT.

"You might as well lower your hand," Dead End informed him. "He probably already got a glimpse. And it will do no good to shield him from the harsh realities of-"

"One more word outta ya and I'll kick your aft clear back to Chaar," Motormaster snarled.

"… _just one example of the fate in store for the Decepticons if they do not leave this planet for good,"_ the speaker continued. _"And don't bother trying to find us. The Knights of Cybertron are legion. We are everywhere. And you cannot. Stop. Us."_

And with that, the image dissolved, returning to the Benefit 500 broadcast. The Stunticons were deathly quiet as Blurr streaked across the finish line, too stunned to react.

"What the frag just happened?" Wildrider demanded.

"Dunno," Motormaster replied, instinctively pulling a whimpering Ricochet to his chest. "But I don't like it… and I'm sure Shockers is gonna have a thing or two to say about it in the morning…"


	3. Threats

"I'm going to give that femme a piece of my processor," Stormrunner muttered just loudly enough for Blitzwing to hear her over the commotion. "Primus knows I like the kid, but I'm going to tell her off for suggesting this and then bailing on us."

"Hey, is it her fault she's got other duties on top of being a parent?" Blitzwing demanded. "Not like she chose an officer position or anything."

"And the rest of us don't have other duties?" Stormrunner shot back. "Though I suppose you're right. And frankly, with everything going on right now, it's a wonder she has the processing power to even come up with this idea." She rolled her optics. "I'm still going to have her wings for this, though."

Blitzwing thought to come to Glory's defense at that, but decided against it as the awful crash of a chair impacting over Onslaught's head rang through the room. He had to admit, this wasn't one of his conjux's best ideas.

The day after the self-proclaimed Knights of Cybertron had broadcast their threat, Glory had contacted every Decepticon with a sparkling in their care and requested a meeting. With a resurgence in violence on Cybertron, she argued, it was only a matter of time before more mechs were terminated, and she wanted to avoid another tragedy like Stardust's if at all possible. If everyone could come together and form some kind of plan to provide for and protect the young ones, then perhaps another incident could be averted.

In theory, Blitzwing supposed, it was a nice idea. But in practice… well, not every Decepticon who had adopted a war orphan was a stable mechanism, and it hadn't taken long at all for arguments and fights to break out. There were a few mechs present who had legitimately received new sparks from Vector Sigma after the war, and they mostly hung back, gaping in shock as Motormaster and Onslaught's argument escalated to trading blows.

 _At least the kids aren't here to witness this,_ he thought, ducking to the side as a chair leg went flying past. _Though I'd argue that lettin' Soundwave's cassettes babysit 'em ain't much better. Hope Swift is okay, some of those other kids are hellions…_

"Temper, temper," Onslaught chided, seeming utterly unfazed at the fact that Motormaster had just shattered a chair over his helm. "Did it occur to you that this isn't the best place to let your anger issues show? What if someone decided you were an incompetent parent and took Ricochet from your team?"

"You callin' me incompetent?" Motormaster snarled. "We're a lot better parents than YOU! How much of a drill sergeant are ya with Hornet an' Firebolt anyhow?"

"Firebolt is Swindle's responsibility, not mine," Onslaught retorted. "And Hornet does just fine, thank you very much."

"Don't listen to him," Swindle cut in with a cheeky grin. "Firebolt might be mine, but he spoils both of 'em."

Onslaught shot his teammate a glower. "I maintain discipline. You're the one who does the spoiling, if I recall correctly."

"And they love me for it," Swindle replied, his grin never fading. "Whereas you're the grumpy parent. 'Sokay, though, they still love ya-"

" **QUIET."**

That single word wasn't shouted, not exactly… but it resonated in the CPU of every mech and femme in the conference room nonetheless. The bickering subsided, and more than one set of optics turned to regard Soundwave with both annoyance and nervousness. The tape deck simply gazed coolly at the gathered Decepticons and nodded at Stormrunner, indicating the black Seeker could continue.

"Thank you, Soundwave," she told him, nodding back. "This has gone on long enough. I didn't bring you here so you could argue over who's the better parent – we're here to discuss what to do about this recent crisis. And the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can all get back to what we need and want to do."

"Well said," Hook muttered.

"I don't see why we gotta be here," Motormaster grumbled. "Nothin's gonna off the Stunts. We're too good of fighters for that. Ricky's gonna be just fine."

"We can't guarantee that," Stormrunner countered. "I consider myself a fine flyer and warrior, and my own bondmate is one of our best aquatic warriors-"

"That's not saying much, given the competition," Dragstrip muttered, then yelped and ducked as Motormaster took a swing at his head.

"-but we've taken precautions just in case," she went on, doing her best to ignore the Stunticons' antics. "We've arranged a caretaker for Valiant should something happen to both of us, and I strongly suggest each of you do the same."

Hook snorted. "I don't trust Lancer with any of the idiots on my team, let alone any other Decepticon. And don't even THINK I'm going to let him fall into Autobot hands should something unthinkable happen."

"Frag no," Blitzwing agreed, scowling. "We already fought hard to get 'em out of Autobot clutches once. We ain't gonna let it happen again."

"That solves what _won't_ happen," Stormrunner conceded, "but doesn't come up with an actual solution. Please, everyone, we have to take this seriously!"

"Shockwave could always restart his academy," Swindle suggested. "That was our backup during the war."

"Right, because we really WANT to go back to the days of training and upgrading our sparklings into cheap cannon fodder," one of the other parents retorted. Blitzwing recognized the mech as Torque, a navy-blue armored vehicle who had received a spark directly from Vector Sigma rather than adopting one of Shockwave's academy sparklings. "Not to mention that Shockwave doesn't have time for such an establishment now, what with his other duties."

"There's one way Shockwave and the Air Commander could still help us," said Torque's conjux, a green-and-tan jetformer named Switchback. "Ensure that only one of a set of parents is on active duty at any given time. That way if anything happens to them, the other is still alive to maintain guardianship. It's not a perfect system, but it will help."

Stormrunner nodded gratefully at the two. "Thank you. At least someone here has a useful suggestion or two-"

"You're still acting like we're all doomed just because a few lunatics made a public threat!" Hook cut in. "Don't you think this is all a gross overreaction?"

"If you think we're overreacting, then get out," Blitzwing suggested, glaring at the Constructicon. "I'm sure your team'll be just fine, right? It's not like nobody's ever taken down a combiner before – oh wait, hasn't Devastator gotten his aft kicked tons of times by now?"

Hook planted his hands on the table and stood, glowering at the triple-changer. "Do you want to say that to Devastator's face?"

"I thought I was," Blitzwing retorted. "Unless you an' Long Haul switched places in the configuration at some point an' didn't tell anyone? Guess that makes you the aft now."

Hook made to lunge across the table, barely held back by Swindle and Onslaught. Blitzwing smirked as the surgeon cursed him out with enough virulence to make an Insecticon clone shrivel up on the spot. Not even Stormrunner's elbow in his side seam could dampen his triumph at provoking a reaction out of the other mech.

"Stop provoking him!" Stormrunner hissed. "You're NOT helping things!"

"Didn't know I was supposed to be," Blitzwing retorted.

She rolled her optics. "You're useless."

"Hook has a point," Onslaught put in as he forcefully shoved Hook back into his seat. "A single attack by a single band of lunatics – if it's even a band and not simply one deranged individual – hardly warrants a full-scale panic. And while our Air Commander may be young and excitable, she isn't given to panic."

"She's cautious," Stormrunner replied. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"Not cautious without due reason," Onslaught retorted. "If she's suggesting that more deaths are on the horizon, then something ominous is coming. Something worse than a single random attack on a Decepticon patrol."

"Oh come on!" Swindle protested, throwing his hands in the air. "The kid's a parent herself! She's got every right to be cautious and to want us to be too!"

"Admirable of you to come to her defense, as always," Onslaught muttered. "But don't deny it. She knows more than she lets on."

"I agree with 'Slaught on this," Motormaster added, and Blitzwing felt his spark sputter in shock at that statement – Motormaster never agreed with anyone, much less the leaders of the other gestalt teams. "Somethin' weird's goin' on if Glory's getting her wires in a snarl over it. Either she knows more about these fake Knights than she lets on, or there's something ELSE goin' on too."

Stormrunner frowned. "She IS Shockwave's Air Commander. She'd be privy to information none of the rest of us have access to. Except for Soundwave…" Her gaze moved toward the blue mech, then quickly flickered away, as if afraid she'd open herself to his scrutiny if she stared at him too long.

"Yeah, well, we all know we ain't getting any info out of Sounders unless our name's Megatron or Shockwave," Swindle quipped. "No offense, sir."

"Offense: not taken," Soundwave replied, then rose to his feet. "Speculation: pointless. Advisement: take advised precautions and await further information and orders."

"You just flat-out admitted something IS going on!" Motormaster roared, pointing an accusing finger at the tape deck. "Spit it out already! What the frag's got Decepticon High Command so worked up anyhow? And what's it got to do with us?"

"No further information forthcoming at this time." And with that, Soundwave turned toward the door.

"Where are YOU goin'?" Motormaster demanded. "Get back here, we ain't done yet!"

"Retrieving Echo and Stardust," Soundwave replied. "Discussion with sparklings: required." And he strode out.

Stormrunner sighed and pressed her fingertips to the sides of her helm. "I suppose we're through here anyhow. Meeting adjourned. Go collect your little ones and get them home… and spend some quality time with them. If some sort of war or skirmish is on the horizon, then we'd better enjoy the calm while it lasts."

The gathered mechs exchanged troubled looks before rising to leave. Blitzwing, for his part, remained sitting for a long while, chewing over everything that had been discussed and liking very little of it. It had never really bothered him before that Glory didn't discuss the goings-on of the High Command with him – though to be honest it was less about respecting the confidentiality of such information and more about ignorance being bliss in his mind. Now, however, he wondered just what she'd been discussing in those meetings… and if it spelled trouble for the Decepticons, or Cybertron as a whole. Or worse, his own little family.

 _Primus, you're goin' soft,_ he thought. _You never worried about a little fighting like this before._ But then, during the Great War he'd never had anyone to worry about besides himself. Now he had something to lose, and that made it all the worse.

* * *

Glory couldn't help feeling some measure of relief that she didn't have to question the Quintesson captive directly, only watch a recording of the interrogation. The tentacled aliens were hideous enough in a picture or on video, but seen in the flesh (or metal, or whatever they were made of) they were even worse. She had never been unfortunate enough to see one up close, only from a distance during skirmishes on the colony worlds, and at the moment she preferred to keep it that way.

At least this particular specimen of Quint-kind wasn't of the five-faced variety. It still wasn't pretty to look at – a bulbous head with a pale blue, almost animalistic face atop a squat orange-and-silver body that floated atop a jet of gas, with vivid green tentacles spilling from what would be the "shoulders" on a bipedal form. Several of these tentacles ended in charred stumps, panels of armor gaped open to expose circuitry, and one optic looked to have been gouged or shot out at some point. Despite its injuries, the creature gazed imperiously at its captors, as if it were the rightful ruler here.

" _Don't make this harder than it has to be,"_ Vortex told the captive, stepping into view. _"Just tell us what we want to know and this'll be over before you know it."_

" _I don't share sensitive information with drones,"_ the Quintesson spat, baring its fangs.

" _We ain't drones!"_ Brawl insisted. _"When're you gonna get it through your thick heads that we're auto… anno… what's the word again?"_

" _Autonomous,"_ Blast Off replied in a long-suffering tone. _"But that's beside the point, Brawl. Shut up if you can't contribute anything useful."_

" _Both of you shut up,"_ Vortex retorted. _"I'm the interrogator here – you two are just supposed to make sure the octopus don't make a break for it."_

" _It's a Quintesson, not an octopus,"_ Blast Off countered.

" _Though it kinda does look like the octopus the Air Commander smuggled onto the Nemesis when she was a kid,"_ Brawl noted. _"Whole lot uglier, though…"_

Shockwave, who stood beside Glory as they reviewed the video, turned and gave her a long and pointed _look._ Glory just smiled. The octopus fiasco had been funny at the time, but she hadn't realized it had been so memorable.

" _You two shut up!"_ Vortex ordered. _"You're gettin' us off topic here."_

The Quintesson smirked at the bickering Combaticons… then hissed as Vortex prodded one of its burned tentacles with an electro-staff. It backed away as far as its energy bonds would allow and gave the interrogator a venomous glower.

" _Sorry, did that hurt?"_ he asked, not sounding apologetic in the least. _"You know exactly how to stop it. Tell us why your kind're attacking our outposts. We ain't done anything to you – why the hostilities?"_

" _I don't owe slaves any explanations,"_ the Quintesson growled. _"You have no right to do this to me – you are property. You rightfully belong to the Quintesson Empire. And you will be punished for this mistreatment of your superior."_

Vortex bristled, rotors fanning out behind him in a display of deepening rage. _"We. Are. Not. Property."_ And he lunged forward, staff raised and aimed for the creature's other optic.

Shockwave switched the recording off, though not before a hideous screech escaped the Quintesson captive. "That was the most we got from the prisoner before Vortex lost his temper. Though I doubt we would have learned much more even if he had left the Quintesson intact. They do not respond to traditional interrogation methods well."

Glory tried to suppress a shiver, though she couldn't keep her wingtips from trembling. She had no fondness whatsoever for Quintessons, but all the same, she didn't fully approve of the Combaticons' treatment of this one. The Decepticons had spent years trying to prove to the Autobots that they weren't needlessly violent, yet here they not only accepted but encouraged brutal treatment of a prisoner in order to gain information. And seeing how much Vortex seemed to enjoy what he did… it was unsettling.

 _You always knew he was an interrogator,_ she told herself. _He just never had cause to show it when you were a sparkling._ That was at least a bit of a relief, especially since Vortex was now in frequent contact with both Swindle and Onslaught's adopted sparklings. Both Firebolt and Hornet seemed to adore him as an uncle of sorts, and that meant that despite his questionable duties and skills, he had something of a soft side.

"We at least have a motive behind their attacks," Glory pointed out, pushing those thoughts out of her CPU for the moment. "They see us as their property and want us back. They can't accept that we're sentient, or they just don't care."

"A motive does us little good," Shockwave replied. "Whatever their reasons for waging war on Cybertron, the end result is largely the same. It simply means conquest and subjugation rather than extermination… and to some, the former is worse than the latter."

"Still, if we can reason with them-"

"Quintessons cannot be reasoned with," Shockwave countered. "They are utterly convinced of their own superiority. We must either destroy them before they can destroy us, or repel them to such a degree that they decide Cybertron's conquest isn't worth the trouble."

She sighed deeply. He was right, fraggit – that didn't mean she had to like it, though. "Was anything else brought back from Kalliope? Allicon or Sharkticon drones? Any equipment we may have captured? There's got to be something they left behind that could lead us to their base."

"All drones were destroyed in the fighting," Shockwave replied. "We will continue our search for the Quintessons' base of operations. In the meantime… we have other matters to deal with."

"The Knights of Cybertron," Glory noted. "But I thought they were a myth." That was what she hoped, at least. The thought of such ancient, allegedly immortal beings bent on wiping out Decepticon-kind was terrifying enough that her CPU instinctively recoiled from it.

"No evidence that the Knights of Cybertron exist has been found to date." Shockwave's words were matter-of-fact, not meant to reassure, but they eased her spark all the same. "Our broadcast-hijacker most likely belongs to a terrorist cell that has chosen to take on the name in order to make a statement of some kind. That makes these self-styled Knights no less dangerous, however… especially if they find sympathetic followers."

"They couldn't have picked a worse time for this," Glory groaned. "How are we going to handle an invasion AND a home-grown terrorist movement? There are so few Decepticons left, and we can't be everywhere at once."

"We will not handle this alone." Shockwave moved away from the screen and stood at the window, gazing out at the Polyhex skyline. "I've requested another meeting with the Autobot Council to appraise them of the situation. If they have any sense, they will aid us in finding and crushing these Knights."

"And if they don't?"

"They will. The Autobots want peace, and they will bend over backwards to ensure it. It is an annoyance in regards to the Quintesson issue, but it will benefit us in regards to the Knights of Cybertron."

Shockwave sounded utterly confident in his statement, but Glory wasn't so sure. The Autobots might not want violence, and many of them might pay vocalizer service to the idea of peaceful relations with the Decepticons. But not all of them were accepting of their former enemies… and some hadn't been shy in speaking out in favor of kicking them off the planet, truce or no truce. It wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine that some Autobots, even some very high-ranking ones, would be happy to look the other way while the Knights of Cybertron continued to murder Decepticon-kind in the name of ensuring "peace."

 _Optimus Prime would never stand for that,_ some part of her countered. _He has always stood up for the Decepticons, and for their right to live on Cybertron unmolested. Even when it meant standing up against the rest of the Council…_

But it was hard to think of Optimus Prime as an ally when he had shot down the last of her family. Even years later, even in spite of his repeated apologies for killing her uncle, that wound in her spark still lay open and burning. And while she could be civil to him when they crossed paths in their respective duties, she had a very hard time thinking of him as an ally to their people.

"You're dismissed," Shockwave said at last. "I will contact you when we meet with the council."

Glory saluted and turned to go. She knew she should go straight home – Stormrunner's meeting with the other parents would have ended by now, and she wanted to spend as much time with Blitzwing and Swift as possible during her precious spare moments. But at the moment she was too keyed up to be suitable company for anyone, much less her family. They deserved to see her somewhat relaxed and, if not happy, at least less stressed and worried about two different factions threatening Cybertron at once.

She made her way to the nearest balcony and leaped off, transforming in midair and soaring deeper into the heart of the Decepticon capitol. There was one place she could go, at least. And while she might not be able to talk about what was happening with this particular mechanism, a good dose of wit and sarcasm might help take some of the edge off. Not to mention a stiff drink.

* * *

The rumble of chatter and laughter that filled the Rustbucket – a surprisingly clean and upscale bar despite the awful name – might have softened or even died down completely had Glory walked in wearing her usual colors. But Glory had long grown tired of being stared at or having complete strangers salute her in public, and was in no mood to have that treatment tonight. Luckily, her color-shifting abilities weren't public knowledge, and while her violet-and-silver coloring would have drawn unwanted attention, no one looked twice at a black-and-dull-gray Seeker walking into the bar and scanning the tables for a familiar face.

And as an added bonus, the very Decepticon she wanted to see knew about her dual-phase color scheme… and was savvy enough to know not to make a scene.

"Over here, kid!" Steelwing called out from a corner table, raising a hand. "Come park it, you look like you've had a long day. Order whatever, it's on me."

Glory nodded in thanks and sat down across from the Decepticon infiltrator. Despite wearing the violet insignia, Steelwing was a carformer wearing the Praxian body type – a chassis favored by Autobots and made particularly famous by some of their war heroes, such as Prowl and Bluestreak. During the days of the war it had enabled her to slip undetected through the Autobot ranks and wreak havoc from within, and while the war was long over, Glory was sure she'd managed to make it work in her favor.

"Long time no see," Glory greeted, waving a serving drone over to place her order. "You've changed your paint. It looks good on you."

Steelwing glanced down at her new colors – no longer the black with gold highlights that Glory was familiar with, but white trimmed with gold and scarlet. "Thanks. I hate 'em. But my new superior informed me that it wasn't a good idea for a medic to be running around in black. Gives patients the wrong idea, I suppose."

"I have to admit, black on a medic looks a little ominous." Glory shrugged. "Then again, I grew up with a medic who favored lime green and purple, so who am I to judge?"

Steelwing smirked and sipped from a cube of electric-blue energex. "So you finally took my invitation for an after-work drink. Here I thought you were just avoiding me."

"Just busy." Glory accepted her own cube from the serving drone, a shimmering red blend that wasn't terribly strong but would hopefully relax her a little before she went home. "Shockwave keeps me occupied much of the time, and I try to spend as much of my free time as possible with Blitzwing and Swift. Family's important to me."

Steelwing nodded. "Still shocked that Blitz turned into a stay-at-home parent myself. Here I thought he'd never be the type to settle down."

"I don't think he thought HE was the type either," Glory confessed. "But he's taken well to it. And Swift adores him. I think he likes the attention. Or at least the excuse to stay home and play video games all day."

Steelwing chuckled. "Sounds like I've got something to tease him about next time I see him."

A rustle passed through the crowded bar as optics turned toward the door. Glory swiveled around to see what all the fuss was about – and spotted two Decepticons walking in. One was a sleek ruby-red carformer with some of the most stylized armor she'd ever seen on a mech, gleaming with a high polish and carrying himself with the air of a being who knew they looked good and were determined to make sure everyone knew it. The other… was that Updraft? It had to be, she hadn't seen any other red Seekers lately…

"Oh for Pit's sake," Steelwing groaned. "Let's get out of here."

"Why?" Glory frowned. "It's just Updraft. I know her – she's a new recruit from Velocitron."

"Not the femme." Steelwing drained the rest of her cube and made to stand up. "Knock Out. The shiny one strutting around like he's the finest thing on four wheels. They just hired him at the clinic, and I can't stand him."

"He can't be THAT bad," Glory insisted, and raised a hand. "Updraft! Come sit with us!"

"No, kid, don't… ugh." Steelwing sank back into her seat and signaled the serving drone for another drink. "Make it stronger this time, I'm gonna need it."

Updraft's gaze met Glory's, and her faceplate was a mask of puzzlement as she tried to figure out who she was. Knock Out evidently had no such reservations, and he took the Seeker's hand and led her over to the table, snatching a spare chair from an empty table along the way.

"Steelwing, fancy meeting you here," the mech practically purred. "I've been wondering where your favorite after-hours watering hole might be."

"Hello, Knock Out," Steelwing replied in a voice dull as lead. "Don't make this a regular thing, all right? I came here to get away from you."

"Darling, you wound me," Knock Out chuckled. "Can't a mech make a few suggestions for some modifications to improve your appearance? The war is over, dear, you can shed that factory model for something a little more optic-catching."

"Some of us are just fine with factory models," Steelwing retorted.

"Dad, behave yourself," Updraft snapped, her optics flashing as she glared at the red mech.

"I am behaving, sweetspark," Knock Out assured her. "But forgive me, I've been very rude not introducing myself to your friend!" He extended a hand to Glory. "Knock Out of Velocitron. A distinct pleasure to meet you, dear – any friend of Updraft's is a friend of mine."

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," Updraft protested, eyeing Glory with a baffled expression. "Thank you for inviting us over, but… do I know you?"

In response Glory just smiled and let her coloring shift back to normal for a moment. "Sorry for the confusion. I wanted to avoid making a scene when I came in, and sometimes this ability comes in handy for that. Glory of Polyhex." She shifted her plating back to black, hoping no one else had witnessed the change.

Updraft's optics went bright with shock, and she made to stand. "Ma'am!"

"Please, stay sitting," Glory urged. "I don't want my troops saluting me every time they see me. It makes me feel like I'm being put on display or something."

Knock Out's optics flashed as well. "Glory… Air Commander Glory? Cyclonus' successor?"

She nodded. "But just Glory for now. I'm off-duty."

A slow grin crossed Knock Out's lip plates. "Stories about you have reached even Velocitron, Glory. We've all heard how instrumental you were in overthrowing Galvatron."

Heat flooded her faceplate, and she busied herself with her drink. This kind of attention was just what she'd been hoping to avoid.

"Don't be fooled by how regal they make her look in the broadcasts," Steelwing advised. "She's pretty modest about it all. Pretty much the polar opposite of Starscream – if it'd been him, he'd be crowing about it until the heat death of the universe."

Knock Out chuckled at that, but Updraft's wings twitched. Glory wondered at that – did she harbor some loyalty to Starscream and resent hearing Steelwing speak ill of him? Or did she just think it inappropriate to make light of any officer, even one who'd been dead for cycles?

"You never mentioned that you'd managed to befriend the Air Commander, Updraft," Knock Out noted. "I'd hoped you'd make friends here, but not in such high places."

"We're not really friends," Updraft insisted. "We've only spoken once since I got here."

"I'd still like to get to know you a bit better," Glory told her. "I try to learn all I can about all my fliers, and you're no exception." She extended a hand. "Stay awhile and talk? I promise I don't bite."

Updraft hesitated, but finally reached out and clasped her hand, a slight smile on her faceplate. "I'll hold you to that. But I warn you, I bite back."

Glory laughed. "Good to know. So this is your creator? I thought he was in mods, not medical."

"Oh, the clinic covers modifications as well as medical issues," Knock Out replied. "I've had some medical training, so I'm able to fill in as needed. And it's a temporary placement until my own shop opens."

"Thank Primus," Steelwing muttered.

"Oh come now, I'm not THAT bad of company." Knock Out grinned and winked at Steelwing. "And my offer of a discount still stands should you choose to upgrade at my shop, dear."

"For the last time, I'm happy with this form…"

Updraft looked to Glory and made a show of rolling her optics. "I think he just enjoys egging her on. He likes getting a reaction, good OR bad."

"Reminds me of a few mechs I know." _Or used to know,_ she thought, a bit wistfully. Skywarp had certainly enjoyed provoking a reaction wherever he went, though he hadn't been nearly as obsessed with his appearance as some mechs…

 _Stop it. You're here to relax and enjoy yourself, not mope about the past._

"So what do you do when you're not leading the troops or lurking in bars?" asked Updraft wryly, taking a drink from the serving drone.

"I don't lurk in bars THAT much," Glory countered with a laugh. "When Shockwave's not running me ragged I'm usually at home with my conjux and sparkling."

"Oh, you're a parent?" Updraft brightened at that. "Just to one?"

She nodded. "Swift was an orphan at Shockwave's academy. When we liberated the last of the academy sparklings from the Autobots I ended up taking her in. She's a little shy, but I think she'd love to meet you at some point."

Updraft had just opened her mouth to respond when Glory's comm pinged. She murmured a quick apology to the others and turned away, touching the side of her helm as she took the message.

 _Air Commander, this is Beatbox. They're requesting Decepticon troops at the correctional facility in Kalis._

Glory bit back a frustrated curse and responded. _Another attack?_ The question was if it was Quintessons or the Knights of Cybertron…

 _No… it's a jailbreak. Galvatron's loose._


	4. Jailbreak

The Decepticons refused to call this facility by the sterile, defanged Autobot term. To them, it was a prison, pure and simple. Referring to it as a "correctional facility" might make it seem less sinister or cruel to the average mech, but Glory shared the opinion of many of her kind that calling something by some name hatched by a bureaucrat didn't change what it was. And so long as it served its purpose by keeping the most violent and dangerous mechs out of the populace, why bother hiding it behind some long cumbersome term?

At the moment, though, Kalis' prison was most decidedly NOT doing its job properly. And as Glory touched down before the facility's gates she wondered just how Galvatron could have escaped under such heavy guard.

 _Unless this is some kind of inside job,_ she thought gravely. _Perhaps there are still Galvatron loyalists out there, as crazy as it seems. Or perhaps the Knights did this to give the Autobots an excuse to hate us further._

She shook her head to clear her thoughts before releasing the safety locks on her arm blades. They could figure out the how of Galvatron's escape later. For now they needed to subdue him and get him back in a secure cell before he could inflict damage or flee beyond their reach.

Behind her, Thrust and Astrotrain touched down, guns out and fire blazing in their optics. No love had been lost between these two and their former leader, and she knew they were itching for a chance to eliminate their ex-leader for good.

"Remember, we take him alive," Glory informed the Seeker and triple-changer. "Don't shoot to kill unless you have no choice."

"What?!" Thrust screeched, optics flashing in disbelief. "Galvatron's nothing but a waste of good scrap! Killing him'll be doing everyone a favor!"

"He's slated to be executed anyhow," Astrotrain added. "Why not just do the job for 'em?"

Glory shook her head. "We can't afford an incident with the Autobots right now. Killing a prisoner, even one scheduled to be terminated, will only cause trouble. Shoot to stun, and do everything in your power to capture him alive." She paused, then added "Though that doesn't necessarily mean he has to be in one piece."

Thrust grinned savagely at that. Astrotrain didn't look entirely mollified, but at least some of the disgust left his features.

Three Autobot soldiers met them at the gates, and immediately Glory knew there was going to be trouble. One she didn't know terribly well, another was fairly dim but well-meaning, and the third… the third had never made it a secret that he didn't trust the Decepticons, truce or no truce, and was bound to make difficulties for them. She braced herself and stepped forward to intercept them.

"What's the situation?" she asked.

"Single-prisoner breakout, high-security sector," reported the first guard, a sleek blue femme she recognized as Chromia. "We have the entire facility on lockdown until the escapee is apprehended. He's contained on Level 4 at the moment, but we haven't been able to subdue him yet."

"Slag, he's a monster!" Hot Rod exclaimed, his expression one of dazed wonder. "He ripped a guard apart with his bare hands! And he took four shots to the torso without even flinching! He's either got no pain receptors or he's flat-out insane!"

Glory fought the urge to roll her optics. Had Hot Rod forgotten everything he'd ever learned about Galvatron during his days as a Prime? Or had extracting the Matrix from him erased his memories of being Rodimus Prime? She had no idea, nor any real desire to ask.

"We coulda told you that," Astrotrain muttered. "Stand aside and let us do our job."

"We don't need your help," Springer snapped. "We've got this under control."

"Springer, we specifically radioed for Decepticon help for this," Chromia pointed out, voice dripping with exasperation. "Just let them do their job, all right?"

"How do we know they didn't plan all this in the first place?" Springer insisted. "They could have arranged all this so they could smuggle him out and get their leader back-"

Glory's temper, already frayed thin by the knowledge that Galvatron had broken out of his cell and was now free to rampage with impunity, snapped at that moment. "Do you honestly THINK we want him back after everything he's done?! That mech nearly destroyed the Decepticons, and we fought a war of our own to put him out of power! What kind of idiot do you have to be to think we'd want him as our leader again?!"

Hot Rod shrugged. "She's got a point."

"Point or not, just let them in already," Chromia ordered. "Before Galvatron tears the head off another guard. One that isn't a Junkion this time."

Glory nodded at Chromia in a terse, wordless thank-you before charging into the facility. Springer shot her a glower as she brushed past him, but she ignored him for now. Time enough later for witty comebacks and snarky insults; for now, she was determined to get Galvatron locked up again before he hurt someone else.

More precious astroseconds were eaten up as guards stopped them at every checkpoint, demanding identification before letting the Air Commander pass through. She allowed them to scan her ID chip but silently fumed at each delay. Was this really a time to adhere to protocol, with a madmech on the loose? And would Optimus Prime or any other Autobot officer have been subjected to this?

She didn't have long to ponder on issues of inequality – her team rounded one last corner to enter a sizable common area that had been torn apart by a brutal struggle. Tables and benches lay scattered throughout the room, either upended or shattered nearly beyond recognition. Black starbursts where plasma and laser fire had missed their marks mottled the walls, and deep dents marred the alloy of both walls and floor. Other, more grisly shrapnel littered the floor amidst the broken furniture – pieces of limbs, vital components, and even a fully intact cranial unit, its face frozen in an expression of dumbfounded shock.

Glory's tanks clenched, and she fought the instinct to purge. Hot Rod hadn't been kidding…

"Officer down!" the severed head bellowed, making her jump. "We got a live one here, folks! Send backup!"

"What in the…" was all she could get out.

"Junkions," grumbled Astrotrain, and he stomped forward and nudged the head with his foot. "Where's Galvatron?"

"Unit 42 reporting in!" came the reply. "We've got a suspect at large, unarmed and dangerous! All available units, on scene now!"

"Where the frag is he?" Astrotrain barked. "Before I punt you through the nearest window!"

"Easy, chief, I'm a little beside myself here," the head retorted. "He went thataway! Like a bat outta hell!"

Glory started again as an arm, sheared off its owner at the shoulder, pointed toward the doorway leading to the energon dispensary.

 _Of course,_ Glory thought. _He'll want to fuel himself up for his escape… or for a prolonged battle. He always was greedy…_

"Thank you," she told the Junkion, feeling a little silly for addressing a dismembered chassis. She nearly added that they'd send a repair tech to help him as soon as possible, then remembered just what kind of a mech she was addressing and hurried toward the dispensary. He'd be fine once he had a few minutes to pull himself together – literally.

The dispensary was just as much of a mess as the common area had been, if not more – stacks of empty cubes had been toppled and crushed underfoot, and the drones who regulated energon rations had been ripped apart and tossed about like so much garbage. A glowing jet of fuel spurted from one of the dispensers, its casing split wide open by a furious blow, and a shimmering slick of said fuel spread rapidly across the floor. She scowled at the mess – the lean times on Chaar had never fully left her, and seeing good energon wasted so carelessly rankled deeply.

Then movement from a corner of the room caught her optic, and she whipped her arm guns toward the crouching form. "Freeze!"

Galvatron glanced up, still hunched over the chassis of a badly damaged guard. Energon dripped from his chin, and for a horrific moment she wondered if the madmech had finally slipped the last of his logic routines and turned cannibal. But he clutched a dented cube in both hands, and she realized he must have simply taken the guard by surprise and attacked him to steal his energon. It would have been like him to ignore the dispensers just to decide another mech's fuel was rightfully his and take it by force.

It had been years since Glory had laid optics on Galvatron, but she was still stunned at how much he had changed. The violet ex-commander had possessed an air of feral nobility before they had deposed him, a regal bearing that barely concealed a murderous insanity beneath. That nobility was gone, completely overtaken by a crazed rage that burned in his optics and made his entire chassis twitch like a caged animal. Char marks and deep scratches, some clear down to the base metal, marred his armor, and two of the points of his tri-horned crown had been snapped off somewhere along the way. No trace of the mad yet commanding tyrant remained – this was a lunatic, pure and simple.

Glory steeled herself, pushing her fear back as best she could. "Hands in the air, Galvatron. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

Galvatron snarled, sparks dancing about his helm, and clutched the cube to his chest. "Mine! I fought for it, it's mine! You're not taking it from me! My precious energon!"

 _Whatever, Gollum,_ the snarky part of her CPU noted. She shoved it to the back of her processor and took a careful step forward, keeping her guns trained on him.

"You can keep the cube," she said in a level tone, trying to sound commanding but not threatening. "Just stand up and keep your hands where I can see them. We're taking you back to your cell."

He hissed like an electro-cat and shifted the cube to one hand, aiming his arm at her. He didn't seem to realize that his jailors had stripped him of his plasma cannon long ago.

"Let's just shoot him and get it over with," Thrust grumbled.

"Quiet," she ordered. "Thrust, Astrotrain, move forward slowly. Keep your guns ready, but don't shoot unless he attacks first."

She could feel the resentment radiating off the two Decepticons in waves, but neither voiced their objections out loud. They shifted closer, tightening up their formation, glaring at Galvatron as if daring to give them an excuse to ventilate him.

The sparks flickering about Galvatron's helm snuffed out, and an eerie calm suffused his features. He gazed at Glory, slowly shuttering and unshuttering his optics… and then smiled, as if finally recognizing her.

"Ah, so the usurper has returned," he noted, voice smooth as polished chrome. "Come to rub your conquest in my face, have you? How are you enjoying your ill-gotten command, Seeker?"

She narrowed her optics. "Stand up and put your hands up, Galvatron. Cooperate and this will go much more smoothly for all of us."

"I take no orders from traitors to the cause," he snapped. "You stole my Decepticons out from under me, killed my most loyal officer, and allowed that hideous cyclops to steal my throne! I should have dismantled you on the spot the moment I first laid optics on you!"

"I'm not going to tell you again," she replied, keeping her voice firm and steady. "Stand up and raise your hands, or we'll be forced to shut you down."

She fully expected him to keep resisting, or to simply charge them in a murderous rage. But a strange clarity filled his optics, and he drank the last of his cube before dropping it and rising to his feet, hands in the air.

 _This is too easy,_ Glory thought, but for the moment didn't question it. "Cuff him, Astrotrain."

"Fraggit, was hoping for more of a challenge," the triple-changer grumbled as he stepped over the injured guard and yanked Galvatron's hands behind his back. "Was hoping for some excitement."

"Just be glad we got this over and done with quickly," Glory informed him. Still, it bothered her that taking the ex-commander back into custody had been so simple. Had the Autobots really been so unable to subdue and recapture him that they had to call for help? They weren't as skilled in the arts of combat as the Decepticons, but they weren't THIS incompetent.

She tried to shut her doubts out as they escorted Galvatron back to the high-security level, she and Thrust flanking him and Astrotrain bringing up the rear. _Just be grateful that it was so simple… that none of you were hurt, and that you won't have to go home and explain to Swift how Uncle Astro got himself damaged or worse…_

They had just made it past the high-security checkpoint when Galvatron lunged to the side, slamming Glory into the wall. Her helm rang from the impact, dazing her, and before she could gather her wits he wrapped his arms around her, twisting around to place her between himself and the guns Thrust and Astrotrain had just drawn. One hand gripped her throat, while the other pinned her arms to her sides.

"Not so glorious now, are you, Air Commander?" he cackled.

A shout echoed from the checkpoint, and a cluster of guards hurried toward the sudden standoff, weapons raised. Under other circumstances Glory might have felt some relief at seeing Autobots coming to a Decepticons' aid, but at the moment she was too stunned by this turn of events to feel much of anything. How had he broken loose again?

"Let her go, Galvatron," Chromia barked. "You put a scratch on her, your life's forfeit."

"I'm not afraid of you," Galvatron retorted. "Of any of you! I am Galvatron, supreme leader of the Decepticons, and I will have every one of your helms on pikes once I'm quit of this place!"

"Drop her!" Astrotrain snarled. "Now!"

"I thought you cuffed him, slagger," Thrust snarled. "How'd he break loose? Did you even lock his restraints?"

"Shut up, they were secure when I-"

"This is NOT the time for it!" Glory snapped, irritation finally cutting through her shock. "Shoot him!"

Galvatron gave a mocking laugh and tightened his grip on her neck strut. "Lower your weapons… or I rip out her fuel lines in front of you."

Astrotrain hesitated, then lowered his gun. Thrust didn't move… and Glory could almost see the gears churning in his CPU, as if assessing whether killing Galvatron was worth her life. Or worse, if her death would mean he would be made Air Commander in her absence. It would almost have been amusing to watch had her life not been at stake.

A low, sinister chuckle slid past her audial as Galvatron leaned closer to her. "Interesting… your own troops' devotion falters. You call me an incompetent tyrant, but at least I held my soldiers' loyalty."

Glory writhed, wrenching at the limb that kept her arms trapped against her sides. Galvatron squeezed her neck warningly, stilling her, but she fought not to let panic overwhelm her. The guards and her own troops weren't in any position to help her at the moment – it was up to her to free herself. If she could just goad her captor into making a mistake of some kind…

"You had one sycophant," she growled through a clenched jaw. "The others followed you out of terror, not true loyalty."

"Terror or loyalty, it is all the same in the end." He stroked a finger along the main fuel line in her neck. "All that matters is that they followed my orders. A leader is not meant to be loved, but to be respected and feared. You are soft and weak, trying to _earn_ the respect that is owed you like a turbohound begging for scraps. A strong leader _takes_ what is owed him!"

"Only a weak leader confuses strength with cruelty," she retorted.

Galvatron chuckled. "And Megatron wasn't cruel? I know how you Decepticons put him on a pedestal and worship him as if he were Primus himself. Yet he was no better than I."

Well, _worship_ was very much an overstatement… and she couldn't deny that Megatron had a sadistic streak of his own. But a few years under Galvatron's reign had made the silver warlord look like a saint in comparison. He had his cruelties and eccentricities, but he had at least exerted some effort into keeping them under control. Galvatron had no such restraint.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Commander," Galvatron sneered, leaning closer to the side of her helm. "One I'm sure you'll find fascinating."

She tried to twist her head away from him, but he tightened his grip on her neck and wrenched her helm back into place. Whatever he had to say, she had no interest in hearing it – was horrified at the thought of hearing it, even. Why didn't the guards at least take a shot at him?

His next words were a soft whisper, laden with savage glee: _"I… am… Megatron."_

Her fans stilled at that revelation. It couldn't be…

"Oh yes," he purred, and from the corner of her optic she could see his features twist into a gloating grin. "The commander you exalt above all else and the one you disdain… one and the same. When Megatron fell, I was raised from his ashes. Better, stronger, superior in every way."

Glory shook with horror at Galvatron's words. He had to be lying – or this had to be a delusion brought on by his insanity. There was no truth to what he said! Yet it made a certain terrible sense – how Galvatron had just happened to show up so soon after Megatron's death, how he seemed to know mechs he never should have met and events he never should have witnessed, even how similar their faces appeared if you looked hard enough…

"And that's not all, little Seeker," he went on, clearly enjoying himself. "The one who forged my body from the discarded scrap you hailed as a leader built others. Cyclonus, Scourge, my Sweeps… all crafted from the bodies of lesser Decepticons slain in battle. One in particular you might find very interesti-"

His words cut off in a ragged scream, sparks flickering about his helm as his CPU fritzed out. Glory nearly missed her chance, still too entranced by his words – but she snapped back to awareness just in time, and ripped an arm free of his grip. The mech screamed again as she punched an arm blade into his abdomen, and she staggered free as he crumpled to the floor, one hand clutching his helm and the other pressed to the leaking wound.

The guards swarmed forward, piling onto the madmech. He kicked and struggled beneath them, but in his pain-wracked state he was no match for them, and soon they had him cuffed and immobilized.

"Get him to the medbay," Chromia ordered. "Once he's no longer leaking or sparking, put him in solitary until we figure out how he escaped his cell and fix it." She turned to Glory. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Glory replied tersely, shaking fluids from her arm blade. "Not a scratch." _No thanks to a few mechs I could mention,_ she added silently, shooting a glare at Thrust and Astrotrain.

Chromia gave her a look not unlike the ones Stormrunner often gave younger mechs – a look that said she knew they were lying but she wasn't going to press the issue yet. "Thank you for your aid, Air Commander. He might be stark raving mad, but that doesn't make him any less cunning or dangerous."

"I still say we should've shot him," Astrotrain muttered.

"An' you sure did a lot of shooting right then, didn't ya?" Thrust jabbed.

"Hey, some of us don't make it a habit of offing our own superiors!" Astrotrain retorted. "I ain't a Starscream!"

"You callin' me a traitor-"

"Both of you just. Shut. Up," Glory ordered, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her olfactory sensor. "We're done here… let's go home."

"Can't we just follow 'em to medbay and rough him up just a little…" Astrotrain grumbled, but trailed off when Glory shot him a long look. He stalked off, still grumbling to himself.

As the Autobots hauled Galvatron off, the violet mech twisted his head about to glare at her. For a long moment their gazes held, his blazing with fury and hers as cool as she could manage. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned and shuttered one optic in a wink before being dragged around a corner and out of sight.

Glory shuddered, wings shaking, and motioned for Thrust to follow her out. She'd have a word with him in her office later, and ask Blitzwing to handle Astrotrain – her conjux could manage his fellow triple-changers better than she could. For now, though, she had too much on her CPU to address either of them.

 _Don't let him bother you,_ she told herself. _Galvatron's not to be trusted. He's either making up stories just to get under your plating or his insanity's taken charge of his vocalizer._

Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that Galvatron's words held some measure of truth. They never had figured out just where he and his hench-mechs had come from, and of all the theories out there regarding their origins, the idea that they had been built from the dead bodies of those killed at Autobot City was not the most far-fetched. Slag, it didn't even crack the top ten. And it made a twisted sort of sense that Galvatron was at least partially built from Megatron's materials… and if was true for him, it could certainly be true for the others.

And that last sentence, before his processor had malfunctioned… had he been hinting at someone she knew personally? Did he know the ultimate fate of Thundercracker?

 _It doesn't matter,_ she told herself fiercely. _He died years ago. Whatever Galvatron could tell you about him, it won't bring him back._ That didn't ease the ache in her spark, however – the ache at never having said a proper goodbye, never seeing his body one last time, never having closure. Did the mech whom she and Shockwave had fought an oil-drenched coup to defeat, the mech who had terrorized the Decepticons for so long, hold the answer?

She shook herself again and strode for the exit. There was so much to do, and so many crises she had to help deal with at the moment. She could ill afford this on top of all of it.

* * *

Swift had no memories of her actual parents, but the adoptive family she had gained in the meantime more than made up for them. Glory and Blitzwing were her parents in all but shared programming, and she had latched onto Astrotrain as an uncle. (Astrotrain claimed he hated being called "Uncle Astro," but Swift could tell most of his grumbling about it was for show.) And though Stormrunner and Wavebreaker bore no relation to her own parents, she viewed them almost as grand-creators. And the other mechs that cycled in and out of her life on a regular basis – Soundwave's cassettes, Motormaster's Stunticons, Uncle Swindle, the other sparklings from Shockwave's academy – were simply relatives subsumed into the vast family tree her CPU had constructed to hold them all, aunts and uncles and cousins and step-siblings.

Of course, like all families, there were times that they had their differences and didn't get along. And as much as she looked up to Valiant as an older brother of sorts, she had to admit that he got really bossy.

"No, that's not how you're supposed to play!"

Swift flinched and shrank away from the game board. She knew Valiant wasn't yelling to be mean, but she still hated it when mechs raised their vocalizers at her.

"She can play however she wants!" Firebolt shot back. "It's a free city-state!"

"She's breaking the rules!" Valiant insisted. "If someone can't afford to pay rent, they have to mortgage a property! You can't just be nice and take a railroad or a hotel in return!"

Swift ducked her head, hiding her face mask behind Dragon's wings. "I don't wanna be mean, though…"

Valiant sighed. "You're never gonna win the game if you don't learn to be mean."

"Hey kids, calm down a little, all right?" Swindle urged, patting the air with his hands. "This isn't a competition, we can bend the rules a little bit."

"But they're not SUPPOSED to just trade properties for rent!" Valiant insisted.

"Hey, sometimes getting ahead in business means knowing when to interpret the rules creatively," Swindle replied. "And sometimes it's good business to be nice to your customers. Keeps 'em coming back." He smiled at Swift and gentled his voice. "You make whatever deal you want with Firebolt, okay?"

"'Kay." She lowered Dragon and held her hand out to Firebolt. "I'll take your Reading Railroad instead of the rent for Boardwalk."

Firebolt giggled and handed over the property card. Valiant sulked a bit as he picked up the dice, but Swift knew he'd brighten up in a few minutes. He might get upset when things didn't go his way, but he rarely held onto his anger for long.

On days when meetings or emergencies kept Mom away from home until late, Swift would often spend time at the homes of the other academy sparklings. The eight of them had spent enough time together, both under Shockwave's care and under the Autobots' watch, that they saw themselves as extended family and liked to play together any chance they got. And while none of the sparklings would say so out loud, the preferred playdates to take place at Swindle's apartment – he had all the fun games and treats, not to mention all the best stories.

At the moment, while she played a rousing game of Monopoly with Valiant and Firebolt, Hornet and Echo and Stardust were gathered in front of a holoscreen watching something called _Deadpool._ Swift had no idea what a Deadpool was, nor why most of the adults, Mom included, declared it off-limits to sparklings. Naturally, that just made it all the more exciting when they'd found it in Swindle's movie collection and he'd given them permission to watch it.

"Just don't tell Onslaught or your parents or they'll kill me," Swindle ordered with a huge grin. "Dunno what all the fuss is about, though. It's not like they're using Cybertronian swears or anything…"

Valiant handed Swindle a fistful of cash, then set about stacking hotels on his properties. "Mom says if she catches me using any swears, even human ones, she'll scrub my mouth out with cleanser."

"See, it's rules like that, I feel, that just lead kids to being even more rebellious," Swindle noted. "They just make the forbidden words all the more appealing. Streisand Effect, I think the humans call it. Just ignore 'em, I figure, and the kids'll get tired of using 'em."

Swift tossed the dice and moved her piece, a chunk of metal shaped like a dog, around the board. "How late do we get to stay tonight, Uncle Swindle?"

"For you, that depends on when your parents come to pick you up." Swindle tapped his chin as he regarded the three on the couch. "Soundwave's coming by in a few hours to get Echo and Star, and Valiant's staying the night – his parents want a break, I guess."

Swift could believe that. She liked Valiant, but in small doses – his bossiness and recklessness were exhausting, especially to a sparkling who preferred quieter activities. At least Firebolt and Hornet, who were pretty high-energy themselves, often toned it down when she was around, and Echo was almost as quiet and enigmatic as Soundwave. Stardust… well…

She gazed over at the silver-and-blue sparkling, huddled up on the end of the couch and clutching a ragged turbofox plush to his chest. Just a few weeks ago he'd been a boisterous and energetic little mech, and Nightwatch had liked to joke that he'd been built without a volume control. But ever since Nightwatch's trine had been shot down he'd withdrawn almost entirely, rarely speaking or joining the others in their play. He hadn't even wanted to join in when Swindle had suggested Monopoly, a game he usually loved.

Swift felt a pang in her spark chamber every time she laid optics on him. Part of it was sympathy – she felt terrible for him and wanted to help cheer him up somehow. But part of it was fear… for if Stardust could lose his parents, any of them could. One day it could be her learning from a sad-faced adult that Mom or Dad wouldn't be coming home…

"Swift, you owe Valiant two hundred."

"Oh." She looked down at her stack of fake money, but suddenly didn't feel like playing. "Can I go lay down? I feel tired."

"You sure, sweetie?" Swindle asked. "Maybe you just need a snack…"

The door opened, and every sparkling's optics flared brighter as they turned to face the doorway. Swift felt a little clench of terror, hoping it was someone's parent and not a soldier come to deliver grim news. Had thinking about what had happened to Stardust's family triggered something terrible?

But a familiar winged form entered the room, and a wave of relief swept through her. "Mama!"

Glory laughed brightly and knelt down, letting Swift charge into her arms. "Hello, little one. Did you behave yourself for Uncle Swindle?"

"Aw, she always does," Swindle laughed. "Here, kid, I'll send you some treats for the road. Firebolt, Valiant, we'll pause the game here, all right?"

"You spoil these kids outrageously, Swindle," Glory complained, though she sounded more amused than upset.

"Funny, I don't recall you complaining about it when you were a sparkling," Swindle retorted. "I'll send you home with a pack of rust sticks, kid. And some of those mercury creams you liked so well."

"Thank you," Swift told him, though she kept her face tucked in the crook of Glory's neck. "Mama, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dear… just a long day at work."

Swift knew that wasn't true – there was too much tension in the Seeker's frame, and her wings were held at a high, worried angle. But she knew Mom didn't talk much about work with anyone, even Dad, so prying wouldn't do any good.

"C'mon, sweetie," Glory murmured, reaching out to take the box Swindle handed her. "Let's go home. You can show me a little more of that Under game you like so much."

"Okay." That sounded just fine to her. If nothing else, maybe the music and atmosphere of the game could soothe both of them a little.


	5. Questions

Stormrunner watched the cluster of fliers streaking across Polyhex's sky, keeping a careful optic on the crimson-and-gold jet midway through the pack. With the war over, she had found herself returning to her old duties of training new fliers and putting more experienced ones through their paces to ensure they kept their skills sharp. It was amazing just how much even the best flier could forget if they hadn't taken to the air in some time – programming only did so much, after all, and even the best flier grew dull and slow if they didn't push themselves.

The black Seeker took her job seriously, and almost every flier in Megatron's forces had passed under her tutelage at one point or another. Even her own creation, Skywarp, had been her student for a time – and he'd quickly learned that just because he was her son didn't mean she was going to let him get away with slacking or goofing off. If anything, she had pushed him all the harder, knowing that he had the makings of a great flier if he would only take his lessons seriously for once.

Now a whole new generation of fliers was about to learn just what a drill sergeant the "old timer" of the Decepticon fliers could be. And not just Decepticon Seekers – the Prime had turned some of his own flying forces over to Stormrunner, saying it would be beneficial for both factions to train together. Stormrunner had her misgivings about that plan, but admitted that it was best for Autobots and Decepticons to learn to at least stand each other's company if they were to be sharing airspace.

Whether her students would think the same thing was anyone's guess… but she'd pound it into their CPUs with a hammer if that's what it took.

"Mom, can I _please_ go up with the next group?"

Stormrunner took her gaze off her students to look down at Valiant. "Asking the same question ten times isn't going to change the answer. No."

"But I need the practice!" He puffed out his chest and threw back his shoulders in his best imitation of the classic Seeker stance. "And I bet I can fly circles around those Auto-losers!"

"We do not call the Autobots names," she scolded. "And the answer is still no. You're too small, and if you were to collide with a larger flier in the air it could seriously hurt you."

He slumped, glaring at the platform they stood on. "Why'd I even get antigravs if I'm never gonna USE 'em?"

She smiled a little and patted his helm. "Be patient, Valiant. Once a few more of the older sparklings upgrade to antigravs, we'll organize some youth flight classes. Until then, you can still learn by watching."

Valiant ducked away from her hand, but he looked a little mollified by her advice. In a lot of ways the sparkling was much like her Skywarp had been – full of mischief and unafraid of taking wild risks in the name of entertaining himself. But unlike Skywarp, who had been something of a slacker when pranks weren't involved, Valiant threw all his considerable energy into whatever he was doing at the moment, whether it was an enthusiastic game of light-ball with Waverunner or chasing retro-rats down darkened alleyways. And he seemed entirely heedless of danger in his quest for excitement and adventure.

At least he was more careful now than when he had first ended up in her and Wavebreaker's care, she mused. Those early days had been rough – he had pushed the rules as far as he could, as if testing their authority and their willingness to enforce said rules. And he'd quickly discovered that the fastest way to both frazzle his new caretakers and to get a quick thrill was to run headlong off the nearest balcony or platform, trusting that one or the other of them would catch him before he hit the street below.

That had ended when the two of them had sat him down and informed him, gently but firmly, that they had lost one sparkling already, and didn't want to lose another. Somehow, the seriousness of their explanation had affected him more deeply than any punishment could have, and he stopped taking such terrible risks.

A shrieked curse cut into her reverie, and she glanced up to see a white-and-red jet – Air Raid, an Aerialbot if she remembered correctly – wobble in the air from where another flier had clipped his wing.

"Fraggit, you did that on purpose, Neon!" he snapped.

"I did not!" the Seeker protested. "I didn't see you there, I swear!"

"Then watch where you're goin' better, bolt-head," another Aerialbot, Slingshot, retorted. "Or is your paint job so blinding you managed to fritz out your own optics?"

"Leave him alone, you two," barked Windsheer, a blue-and-gold Seeker. "It was an accident."

"'Course you 'Cons would take each other's sides," Slingshot grumbled.

"Break it up," ordered Silverbolt. "This is supposed to be a cooperative exercise, not a chance to pick fights."

"I'm not picking a fight, just trying to keep Optic-Sore here from-"

Stormrunner decided it was time to interfere, and spoke up on the general frequency. _Everyone. Break. It. Up. Accidents happen in the air, and fighting and assigning blame doesn't help. Neon, watch your surroundings a little more carefully from here on out. Air Raid, you too – everyone's at fault in a collision. Slingshot, mute it or you'll be flying laps for the next decacycle._

Slingshot grumbled and veered away from Neon. Stormrunner, for her part, had to smirk a little as the young Seeker pulled back from the Aerialbot. Well, Slingshot wasn't wrong about one thing – Neon's paint job looked to have been applied by a mech with a broken spectrum array in both optics. He certainly wasn't going to be recruited for any stealth missions with that bright magenta, green, and blue look.

The red-and-gold Seeker had pulled back from the mild collision and its aftermath, as if wanting no part in the drama. Stormrunner watched her, a frown tugging at her lip plates. Updraft was something of a loner, keeping to herself and doing her best not to draw attention, but once in the air she had caught the older Seeker's attention almost immediately. She wasn't the fastest Seeker on the wing, but she was certainly one of the most agile, able to outmaneuver almost every other flier. She did her best to downplay her own skills, but what Seeker could resist showing off once given the chance to stretch their wings?

 _There's something strange about that new Seeker,_ she thought as Updraft slipped between Windsheer and Powerglide to work her way up to the head of the pack. Something about her tugged at Stormrunner's databanks, as if she'd seen the femme before but couldn't place her. Her skill in the air, her stance when she stood at ease, the set to her faceplates…

"How fares the training?"

Stormrunner turned and saluted. "Going well, Shockwave sir."

"At ease," the violet mech ordered as he walked up to stand beside her. "I had my doubts about a combined Autobot and Decepticon training exercise, but it seems to be progressing well."

"There's been a few upsets, but nothing serious," she replied, lowering her arm. "They're not going to be drinking buddies anytime soon, but most of them will at least tolerate sharing the same airspace. That's better than we expected."

Valiant grinned and waved at Shockwave, who simply nodded acknowledgement. Stormrunner supposed she should correct the young mech and tell him to show the proper respect to the Decepticon leader, but she didn't have the spark to do so. Despite accepting her and her conjux as adoptive parents, he still had a soft spot for Shockwave as his former caretaker, and that was worth something in her CPU.

"Any observations you wish to report?"

Stormrunner frowned, wondering if she should bring up Updraft or not. Compared to the recent antics of the Knights of Cybertron, her inklings of suspicion regarding one new Seeker seemed trivial. Still, perhaps voicing her concerns aloud would help her dismiss them… or get advice on whether to worry further.

"The red and gold flier, Updraft," she replied, nodding up at the jet in question. "What do you know of her? She just recently came in from a neutral colony, right?"

"Velocitron," Shockwave replied, watching as Updraft broke away from the group to execute a loop, earning cheers from the other Seekers and a grumbled "show-off!" from Slingshot. "She originates from Vos, however, and has opted for a Seeker form over that of a vehicle. Quite unusual for one raised in that particular colony."

"True enough… Velocitron's not exactly a place for a flier." She studied Updraft's technique as she continued to loop and roll through the sky, reveling in the chance to stretch her wings. "What else do you know about her?"

"Creation of Knock Out and Breakdown of Velocitron," Shockwave replied. "She enlisted into our aerial forces soon after arriving to Cybertron, and fought against the Quintessons in the attack on Kalliope. Nothing notable beyond that." He turned to regard her, headfins twitching with interest. "Is there a reason you ask, Stormrunner?"

"There's something… off… about her," Stormrunner replied. "Something vaguely familiar. I can't put a digit on it, but it's there all the same. I was hoping that someone else might see the same thing."

"I have not observed her long enough to notice anything unusual," Shockwave replied. Something in his tone indicated that he was annoyed by the question – perhaps an unspoken hint that he was far too busy with whatever unnamed crisis was occupying Decepticon High Command at the moment to pay attention to every new recruit. Faceless he might be, but Stormrunner had been around him long enough to read in his tone what he didn't say with voice or facial expression.

"What of the Air Commander?" asked Shockwave. "What does she have to say on the matter?"

Stormrunner snorted. "Commander Glory is a good leader… but she can be oblivious as well. I don't think she's noticed anything about the newcomer, except that she's a fellow Seeker. And given that they're not too far apart in age, I think she would like to see her as a friend, not just a subordinate."

"Glory is more observant than you think," Shockwave noted, "though her attention is focused on other matters at the moment." He pinned his headfins back in thought. "I would think she would be here to watch this exercise… where is she?"

She frowned. "I assumed you kept tabs on her, sir."

"Unlike some Air Commanders, Glory does not need to be constantly watched for fear of treachery." Was that snark she heard in Shockwave's tightly controlled voice? "She had matters to see to this evening – I assumed she was referring to this exercise. I see I was wrong."

Stormrunner's frown deepened. Glory normally took a keen interest in what her troops were up to, so for her to be absent from this exercise was unusual. Perhaps the fact that Autobots were present had deterred her – despite the recent peace Glory still distrusted their faction, having lost almost her entire family to their hands. Perhaps it was time she had a talk with the younger Seeker about her prejudices, not as a subordinate but as a friend and mentor…

She had no time to decide exactly how to broach the subject to her, for disaster broke out at that moment. Another Aerialbot – Fireflight – hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings, and he veered too close to Neon and slammed into his side. The collision wasn't nearly as messy as it could have been, given that they had been flying side by side rather than charging headlong at each other, but it was bad enough to send both plummeting to the ground.

"Mom!" Valiant cried out, whirling toward her. The expression on his face was the blessing and the bane of any parent – the expression of a child who has seen or become involved in a crisis, and trusted their creator to swoop in and save the day.

Luckily, Stormrunner had dealt with this sort of crisis many times over the vorns, and was in the air almost before Valiant had a chance to finish his shout. The Aerialbots had their teammate well in hand, diving down to intercept his fall, so she focused her attention on Neon. He was making no effort to slow his fall, spinning end over end as he hurtled toward the streets below, which led her to believe he had either frozen in panic or been knocked offline by the collision. Which meant it was up to her to catch him… if she was fast enough.

 _Skywarp, where are you when I need you?_ she thought desperately, shunting as much energy as she could toward her thrusters as she ripped across the sky. Could she make it… could she…

A blur of crimson streaked across her vision as Updraft dove to meet the magenta Seeker, positioning herself between him and the street. Her dive matched his fall almost exactly as she maneuvered closer, taking his weight on her back. Only when she was sure he was secure did she pull up, clearing a holographic billboard with handspans to spare.

Shock and relief warred in Stormrunner's spark as she slowed, watching as Updraft carried her injured companion toward the platform. How had she managed that? Midair rescues were incredibly risky, and few fliers had the bolts to attempt them even during a training exercise. In fact, she'd only seen one other rescue like that…

The other students were touching down, as if the accident had signaled the end of their flight. The Autobot fliers clustered around the injured Fireflight, who was whimpering in pain but didn't seem critically damaged. The Seekers and other Decepticon fliers, meanwhile, broke into cheers as Updraft landed and let Shockwave pull Neon from her back.

"That was _amazing!"_ Windsheer gushed. "How did you do that?"

Updraft transformed, wincing at the scratches she'd acquired in her rescue effort. "It was nothing, really," she insisted, though she was obviously beaming with pride.

"That was incredible!" insisted Barnstormer, a brown Seeker with a thick amber visor. "You've got to show us how you did that!"

Stormrunner wanted dearly to ask Updraft just where she'd learned that trick. But she forced herself to go to Neon's side. The brightly-colored flier was out cold, ugly rents in his wings exposing delicate wiring and his cockpit shattered. Shockwave bent over him, scanning his vital signs and inspecting his wounds.

"How is he?" she asked.

"The damages are serious, but not life-threatening," he replied, straightening. "I have stabilized him, and a medical unit are on their way to transport him."

"That was amazing!" Valiant shouted, bouncing up and down with delight. "Did you see how she VROOOOOOOOM dove down like that? And then NNNEEEEWWWWWMMMM!"

Despite herself, Stormrunner had to crack a smile at the sparkling's enthusiasm. "It was pretty amazing, even if it's not something I advise fliers to pull without proper training." Her smile faded. "But I've only ever seen one flier pull off a move like that. A flier I think we both know all too well."

Shockwave's headfins pricked up in interest. "You think Updraft is a possible danger?"

"Programming doesn't always indicate destiny… but all the same, I want to be sure." She watched as Barnstormer led Updraft away, possibly for celebratory drinks, while Windsheer made her way to where Neon lay to check on his condition. "I think a few tests are in order, if we can manage it."

"I'll see about discreetly obtaining a sample for CNA testing," Shockwave replied. "Until then… speak of this to no one, including the Air Commander. The fewer who know of this until we know for certain, the better."

"Yes, sir." Stormrunner stepped back as the medical team hurried up to take charge of Neon. She held no ill feelings toward Updraft and disliked what they were doing, but at the same time she wanted to be sure of her suspicions. Because if her worst fears were realized, then the Decepticons could have a lot more trouble on their plate than the threat of the Knights.

* * *

"ID please."

Glory suppressed the urge to sigh and extended her arm, allowing the guard to scan her ID chip. Part of her wanted to question if Autobot officers got stopped and scanned at every checkpoint or if this treatment was reserved for Decepticons, but she knew asking that would just lead to further trouble. Still, it rankled that she was being scrutinized so closely simply because of the crest she wore, despite all the Prime's claims that the war was over and Cybertron was striving toward equality to all factions.

At least she wasn't here to avert a crisis this time, she consoled herself. These frequent security checks were annoying, but weren't costing precious seconds and possible lives in the process. This was a personal mission, not one vital to the Decepticons or to Cybertron itself… but an important one all the same.

"State your business here, Air Commander," the guard ordered.

"I've been sent by Lord Shockwave to question Galvatron," she replied.

The guard, a dark-green mech whose bulk hinted at some sort of truck or other heavy-duty alt mode, arched an optic ridge. "What about?"

"It's classified."

"If Lord Shockers is gonna be questioning one of the worst war criminals in history, we slagging well wanna know what about." His optics narrowed. "Does the Autobot Council know about this?"

In truth, the Autobot Council had no clue she was down here. Nor did Shockwave – she had lied about his involvement, figuring that what he didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Soundwave might have some idea, as there was very little that ever escaped his attention, but she doubted he would tell anyone else unless he thought she was in danger. And she hoped that by now she had proven she was capable of looking after herself.

She said nothing of this to the guard, however, simply narrowed her optic shutters at him. "The Decepticons don't make a point of nosing into the Autobots' business at every turn. Do we not get the same courtesy in turn?"

The guard opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it and touched the side of his helm as he made a quick communique. "They're getting him to an interrogation room as we speak – though I warn you, it might take a while. He ain't exactly the most cooperative prisoner."

She could believe that. "I can wait."

"You'll have to turn in your guns before goin' in. Safety precautions – if the prisoner overpowers you, we don't want him getting' ahold of weapons."

She gave him a steely glare, then slowly detached her arm guns and rested them on the desk that separated them. It was tempting to tell him that she was no Autobot weakling, that there was no way Galvatron would be able to take her down. But this was not the time to start an argument… and her last encounter with Galvatron was still humiliatingly fresh in her memory banks. Even weaponless, he was dangerous.

"You'll get these back when you're done," the guard told her, tagging the guns and turning to lock them up. "There'll be guards stationed outside the room – comm them when you're through. If we hear anything suspicious or if you're in there too long, we'll send someone in to investigate."

Glory nodded tersely. Logically she knew these were all sensible precautions, but some part of her still couldn't help but be irritated. Five years, and the Autobots still seemed distrustful of anything wearing a Decepticon badge.

 _It's not like you've been too trusting of them either,_ the obnoxious voice of reason chimed in. She squashed the voice down, but the thought remained.

It seemed an eternity later when Springer approached the guard station, shooting a suspicious look at Glory before addressing the first guard. "Prisoner's ready for questioning. But I thought it was gonna be Prime or Magnus doing the talking, not… _her._ " He spoke the word as if it tasted foul coming out of his vocalizer.

"Just take her to him," the first guard ordered. "The sooner she gets done with what she needs to do, the better." He turned to Glory. "Want us to sedate him first?"

She shook her head. "I want him lucid when I question him." Truth be told, she wasn't sure sedatives would even work on his brand of madness.

Springer gestured sharply for her to follow, but didn't speak up until they were several paces down the corridor, out of his fellow guard's hearing range. "I'm keeping my optics on you, Decepticon. I don't trust you in there with him – you're bound to cut his cuffs open and free him for your glorious cause or some nonsense."

Glory arched an optic ridge. "After the terrible war we fought to put him out of power, you honestly think we'd want him back? If anything, we're just disappointed that you Autobots haven't hurried up with the execution already."

"Of course you Decepticons are all about death and shedding oil," Springer growled. "Sick freaks."

Glory knew that, despite being here on personal business, she was representing the High Command at the moment and should act accordingly. But her vocalizer had other ideas. "What's sicker, Springer? Wanting to see a dangerous tyrant destroyed for the safety of Cybertron, or keeping him alive and in torment just because you're too weak to do what has to be done?" She arched an optic ridge. "Or keeping innocent sparklings of the enemy faction as captives, and CPU-washing them into turning against their own kind?"

Springer narrowed his optics. "You're never gonna forget that, are you? That was for their own good. And for the greater good!"

"You'd be amazed at what kind of atrocities can be justified in the name of the 'greater good,'" she retorted, and stormed into the interrogation room before Springer could reply.

For a pump-stopping moment Glory wondered if this was the same room where Optimus Prime had questioned her so long ago… had it really only been five years? She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. Most likely it wasn't – they probably had several interrogation rooms that just all looked the same. Still, it was startlingly familiar, even if she now occupied the seat the Prime once had. And seated across from her…

Somehow, Galvatron looked worse than he had just a day ago. New dents and scratches marred his armor, and a rough patch covered the stab wound in his torso. His wrists were cuffed to the heavy chair, and energy chains crisscrossed his chest, as if whoever had secured him hadn't trusted the cuffs alone to keep him restrained. Sparks danced about his helm in an unholy halo, and the broken points of his crown glittered in their flickering light.

Somehow, despite his broken state, Galvatron sat proud and straight in his chair, occupying it as if it were a throne and he was still the rightful ruler of the Decepticons. The glare he gave her as she sat down across from him burned with pure hatred, but she kept her features as composed as possible. He might seem mad, she knew, but he was cunning – and if he spotted weakness in her, he'd pounce on it and never let go.

"You return to gloat, Seeker?" he rasped, optics blazing. "Or did your humiliation of me not satisfy you? Perhaps you've come to slit my throat and have your final vengeance?"

"I'm not the gloating type," Glory replied calmly. As for his second guess… she wouldn't lie, it was tempting to draw her arm blades and finish the job the Autobots refused to complete. Galvatron had inflicted untold pain and misery upon the Decepticons, and destroying him once and for all would be satisfying justice in her mind.

She flexed her hands, the springs that armed her blades tensing… then forced herself to relax. Not today. Not until she had what she came for. And perhaps not even then, for killing an unarmed prisoner would not endear her to the guards who were already looking for an excuse to hate and mistrust her.

"Then why are you here?" he demanded. "Speak, Seeker! Or if you refuse to speak, act! You came for a purpose. Don't waste my precious time gawking!"

 _Don't let him rile you,_ she told herself. _He just wants to provoke you into doing something stupid._ Aloud she said "Shockwave has sent me to acquire information. I suggest you cooperate."

His optics flashed. "Is that a threat, little Seeker?"

"A suggestion, nothing more," she replied, doing her best to mimic Shockwave's cool logical tones as she spoke. "It was brought to our attentions that we know almost nothing about your origins, and Shockwave wants more information on you before your termination."

Galvatron cocked his head to one side, then the other, like a confused turbohound trying to process its master's commands. Then he threw his head back and barked out a harsh laugh.

"You're a terrible liar, Seeker!" he cackled. "Shockwave didn't send you. Nor does he care one flying frag about my origins. He's not THAT curious… but YOU are."

She winced. Was she that transparent that he could call her bluff that easily? "I reported our encounter to him, and he agreed that it was in our best interests to know more about-"

"Don't waste your words by lying," he growled. "I made you curious during our last encounter, and you won't rest easy until you learn more." A sly grin crossed his face, a grin spoiled by a twitch to the lip plates on one side. "Be careful, little Seeker… knowledge can be a powerful weapon, but like any weapon it can be deadly when turned on the one who wields it."

Her spark clenched. Mad he might be, but he was frighteningly intelligent when he wanted to be. And despite his insanity, his words rang true with a terrible chill. Did she really want to know what he had to tell her? Or would it just wound her all the more?

In the end, curiosity won out. "Fine… we'll drop the pretense. You know what happened to Thundercracker. Tell me."

He gave a dark chuckle that cut off with a snarl as his temples sparked again. "That's more like it, little Seeker. And yes… I know very well what happened to the one you call Thundercracker. I know what became of him, of Megatron, of Skywarp, of all the mechs left for dead by Starscream in the aftermath of that terrible battle. For they weren't fully dead when your _beloved_ predecessor flung them into deep space… oh no. Their sparks still burned, if fitfully."

Glory realized she was leaning forward to better listen to Galvatron's words, and she forced herself to pull back. Her spark shivered with something almost like hope… almost, but not quite. If Thundercracker had been alive when he'd been thrown off Astrotrain... was there a chance he was still alive somewhere? Alive and still searching for the little sparkling that had been left in his care, unaware that she was fully upgraded and back on Cybertron?

"I see that pleases you," Galvatron noted, and Glory realized he'd been watching her reaction. Watching, and judging by that sadistic grin enjoying the sense of hope it gave her. She forced her faceplates into a neutral expression. He had to be lying, raising her hopes just so he could dash them again for his own amusement.

"What became of them after… after Astrotrain left?"

Galvatron smirked. "I don't think you really want to know."

"Please… I need to know."

"No, you don't. If you had any sense at all you would end this conversation right now and flee this room, never to return. But you were always one with more bravado than sense, little Seeker. Always one to charge ahead without thinking, regardless of the consequences. No… you won't back down. Not until you've learned what you wish to know, even if it tears apart everything you love."

"Shut up," Glory hissed. "Shut up and tell me!"

"Which is it?" he taunted. "Do you want me to shut up, or to tell you? And here you accuse ME of giving conflicting orders."

She lost all composure at that, slamming her hands against the table and standing to loom over the violet mech. "Tell me. _Now."_

Galvatron grinned smugly but didn't answer for a long moment. Glory had opened her mouth to repeat her demand when he finally spoke the word that sent shards of ice stabbing through her spark:

" _Unicron."_

She stared at him, uncomprehending. _Unicron…_ the Great Destroyer, the monster who had nearly wrecked Cybertron beyond repair before the Matrix of Leadership had destroyed him. Memories from that horrible attack still haunted her, and even years later she still occasionally had nightmares of that titanic entity looming over Polyhex, a hand the size of a continent hurtling down to crush cities and bring death and chaos…

She shook her head, dismissing the memories. Unicron was dead, the damage he had wrought well on its way to being fully repaired. Only his head remained as testament to his legacy, a grotesque moon that orbited the planet to this day. But what did he have to do with this?

"Unicorn came upon those unfortunates," Galvatron continued. "And for reasons only a god of death can begin to fathom, he decided he needed henchmen. He assembled their shattered bodies and forged them anew, creating soldiers to do his bidding. From Megatron and his warriors… he created us."

Her vocalizer stuttered as she struggled to address him. "Y-you're lying."

"Why would I lie, Seeker?" He laughed cruelly. "Unlike you, I find no amusement in dishonesty. The truth is so much more devastating a weapon." He leaned back in his chair. "From Megatron's spark and chassis, I was born. From the sparks and bodies of the others came my most loyal soldiers – Cyclonus and his armada, Scourge and his sweeps…"

She didn't want to hear any more, but the words to silence Galvatron wouldn't come. The truth loomed ahead of her, a horror she knew would rip open wounds she had long thought healed if it emerged into the light, yet some part of her wanted to hear. Even if it meant pain...

"Come closer, little Seeker," he purred. "You'll want to hear this quite clearly."

 _It's a trick!_ her CPU screamed. _Don't do it! It's a ruse to get you within reach so he can attack you!_ Yet she leaned forward anyhow. Despite everything, she had to know.

Galvatron leaned forward as far as his bonds would allow, a vicious grin on his lip plates as he spoke the words:

" _Thundercracker… became… Scourge."_

She pulled back, staring at him, her spark twisting in its chamber. For a long moment the two violet Decepticons locked gazes, one's optics blazing in shock, the other's glittering with malicious amusement.

 _He's lying!_ her mind insisted. _This is a trick, a cruel trick! It's just his twisted, lunatic way to get some kind of revenge!_

And yet… his words held a strange sort of logic. Or, if not logic, a spark of hope…

She turned and slapped the comm unit on the wall. "We're through here. Get him back to his cell. Now!"

" _Yes, ma'am."_

Galvatron flung his head back and howled with cruel laughter, the sound echoing from the walls of the chamber. He continued to laugh as Glory ducked out the doors as soon as they opened, and his maniacal laughter continued to dog her heels as she ran down the corridors of the correctional facility… as if she could somehow outrun the truth.

She finally paused to rest at the gates of the facility, fans whirring furiously to cool her overheated systems. She leaned against the wall, CPU still awhirl. Thundercracker… Scourge… all this time, they had been one and the same. All this time she had mourned her uncle, not realizing that he had been there all along, albeit in a much different form. And he had never said a word, letting her believe the last of her family had perished at Autobot City.

 _How could he do that? What possessed him to do that? He would never have been so cruel… would he?_ Had his transformation at Unicron's hands altered his spark as well as his body, turning the uncle she loved into something cruel and sadistic? Or worse, had he used his "death" as an opportunity to be rid of the responsibility of raising her once and for all? Had the mech she had come to see as a father figure really been so spark-less?

 _Are you out of your mind?_ the more rational part of her CPU demanded. _This is the mech who risked being killed for treason to protect you! This is the mech who faced down Optimus Prime himself to keep you safe! He loved you, and would have rather died than abandon you. There has to be another reason…_

Before she could ponder what that reason could be, her comm flared with an urgent message. Both annoyed and grateful for the distraction, she answered.

 _Glory reporting._

 _Air Commander, this is Beatbox. Wherever you are, Shockwave says back to Polyhex NOW._

She grimaced. Had her superior found out what she was up to? _What's the situation?_

 _There's been a bombing at a tavern. It's really bad – at least twenty mechs dead, dozens more injured._

The bottom seemed to drop out of her fuel tanks at that. _The Knights of Cybertron?_

 _They just released a video claiming responsibility. But even without that, it's pretty obvious it's them._

 _I'm on my way. ETA two minutes._

She cut the connection and leaped into the air, transforming with a few deft twists. No time for a personal crisis, it seemed – the universe seemed bound and determined to see to that.


	6. Terror

The Rustbucket, despite its rough-sounding name, was actually one of the higher-end oilbars in this district of Polyhex – the owner, a neutral named Tankard, simply had a wry sense of humor. It was also one of the few establishments in the area that catered to both Autobots and Decepticons, and saw a mixed crowd of both factions as well as a good number of neutrals on a regular basis. Technically it was illegal for any business to discriminate based on faction, but that didn't stop many establishments from finding excuses to boot customers the owners or staff didn't like the look of. Tankard didn't hold truck with that kind of behavior, however, and would serve anyone with credits who didn't harass her servers or pick fights.

Blitzwing usually preferred rougher places to get overcharged in – it gave him an excuse to burn off some of the excess energy he couldn't expend in battle. But Steelwing had rather firmly suggested that he try fueling at establishments where a Decepticon sigil wasn't seen as an invitation to start a brawl, and with some misgivings he'd taken her recommendation and dragged his drinking buddies to the Rustbucket.

He was starting to regret that – this place was nice, but packed with mechanisms, which meant they drew even more attention when his fellow triple-changers started their inevitable ribbing and teasing.

"So how's our favorite tank enjoying playing house-mech?" asked Octane, grinning at Blitzwing over a mug of energex.

"Drop dead," Blitzwing grumbled, not looking up from his mix. "And stop callin' me house-mech."

"What, ashamed of being all domestic for a change?" Astrotrain needled. "Never pegged you for the stay-at-home parent type, but here we are."

"Drop dead," he repeated, curling his lip in a snarl. "Both of ya."

Astrotrain didn't so much as flinch – when you'd worked alongside Blitzwing as long as he had, you learned that "drop dead" was almost a term of endearment coming from him. "They made you head of the PTA at Swift's school yet? You could bake energon goodies for all the kids!"

"Oh, oh, oh, I know just what he needs next Advent!" Octane snickered. "One'a those frilly aprons the housewives in the old human films wear! He'd look positively adorable!"

Blitzwing growled as Octane and Astrotrain laughed uproariously at their own stupid jokes. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but their jabs really did get under his plating. He was a Decepticon soldier, one of the top triple-changer warriors, with a kill count higher than almost any other mech that wasn't a high officer or combiner-team member (and he didn't really count the combiner teams, seeing as grouping five or six mechs' kills into one statistic felt like cheating in his book). He wasn't domestic or a housewife or any of these other names they were trying to pin on him.

Still, some smug part of him managed to stay calm through their teasing. Maybe being stuck at home with a sparkling was boring to a soldier, but both Swift and Glory made it very worth it. And these two would never know the joy a sparkling and a bondmate could bring, not at the rate either of them were going.

"Laugh it up, you two," Blitzwing grumbled. "Someday one'a you'll get saddled with a kid an' won't be laughing so hard."

"That'll be the day," Octane snickered. "And no way Astro's gonna make the same mistakes you did. Not unless the kid turns into a train, anyhow."

"Oh, shut up," Astrotrain retorted. "Not even if the kid turns into a train. Sparklings are too much trouble – noisy little energy-sucks is all."

Blitzwing felt a sudden urge to defend Swift's honor by decking Astrotrain upside the jaw… but a quick look at Tankard's stern glare from the bar made him change his mind. No sense getting thrown out of this place on his first visit. So he opted for a verbal takedown instead.

"Don't act like Swift doesn't have you wrapped around her finger," he pointed out. "Who's the one who spends every other night at our apartment playin' video games with her? And brings her rust sticks every visit?"

Astrotrain's optics bleached white as Octane howled with laughter. "That's different! Just 'cause I don't like kids don't mean I gotta treat them like slag!"

"Whatever, Uncle Astro," Blitzwing cackled. "Watch yourself, soon you'll be wantin' one of your own. Maybe Shockwave should assign Stardust to you."

"Who the frag is Stardust?" demanded Octane.

"Nightwatch's kid," Blitzwing replied, his grin fading. "The Seeker whose trine got shot down by those crazy Knights. High Command's still tryin' to decide what to do with the kid. He's staying with Soundwave for now, but I dunno if that's gonna be a permanent thing or not. Soundwave's already got one kid on top of his usual duties."

"Surprised you haven't jumped on the chance to adopt another," Octane pointed out, his tone only half-joking.

"Glory was considering it," he replied, "but we decided against it." He decided not to reveal the details of that conversation – how he had almost caved to her pleas for them to make room for Stardust in their apartment, or how he had argued _I thought we agreed we'd get our next one from Vector Sigma, from our own programming._ Some things were better left unsaid.

"Slaggin' Autobot extremists," Astrotrain groaned, looking down into his cube. "Not enough that we got Quints breathing down our neck struts in the colonies, but now we're not even safe on our home turf. I guarantee Nightwatch's trine won't be the last to get shot down."

Blitzwing's visor flashed in surprise. "Wait, what'd you say, Astro? Quints?"

"Quints," he grunted. He paused to drain the rest of his cube, then continued. "Was with the Kalliope deployment chasin' 'em off. And that's only been the latest – guess there's been a rash of Quintesson attacks on our colonies and outposts. Fraggin' space jellyfish don't know when to leave well enough alone, I guess."

Blitzwing mulled over that information as he picked up a rust stick from a dish in the center of the table and idly swirled his drink with it. Well, that solved the mystery of just what had Glory and Shockwave so worked up and busy lately – if they were having to deal with Quintesson incursions on top of the Knights of Cybertron attempting to stir up trouble, of course they'd have their hands full. He had to wonder if whoever was leading the Knights knew about the recent attacks and was taking advantage of the Decepticons' distraction to push their cause, or if they just had extremely sucky timing.

"Betcha you're regrettin' playin' Daddy now, huh?" Octane snarked. "I know you've always wanted to punch a Quint in the face. Or faces, I guess. Too bad you screwed yourself outta the chance."

"I'll be punchin' YOU in the face if you don't-"

A ripping explosion cut off the rest of his threat, a concussion powerful enough to shatter the front windows and send glasses and cubes tumbling off tables. Several mechs screamed, but their cries were nothing compared to the cacophony that flowed in from the tavern across the street from the Rustbucket. Choking smoke and cloying dust accompanied screams of terror and pain, the rumble of collapsing architecture, the crunch of footsteps on rubble as mechs fled the chaos.

Blitzwing shoved away from the table so fast he sent his drink toppling, sword in hand. Primus below, had the Quintessons grown bold enough to attack Cybertron already? Or was this the result of a threat much closer to home? Somehow his CPU wouldn't let this be an accident, a ruptured pipeline or an unfortunate mechanism tinkering with unstable energy blends in the basement…

He got his answer when the Rustbucket's viewscreen, which had been broadcasting a lightball match on Caminus, blanked out, then flickered back to life with the image of a silhouetted mech, his features obscured by shadow, his voice flattened beyond recognition by a synthesizer. And Blitzwing felt dread congeal in his tanks as that voice spoke in words dripping with hatred.

* * *

" _Let this destruction serve as a reminder that we will not tolerate Decepticons among our numbers. We will not rest until they have been driven from our planet… or if necessary, exterminated. This is not a declaration of war, but a pre-emptive strike – for if we do not cleanse ourselves of this stain upon Cybertron, they will rot us from within like rust, destroying all we have worked so hard to build."_

The shadowy mech clenched a fist, holding it skyward. _"This is a call to arms to all Autobots who have lived under the shadow, the iron fist, of Megatron and Galvatron and their ilk, all who tire of living in their thrall of terror. The Knights of Cybertron shall not rest until justice is served – and all who consider themselves Decepticon are driven or cleansed from our homeworld. Cybertron belongs to the Autobots! Death to all who wear the Decepticon shield!"_

Glory wanted nothing more than to shut down the handheld screen and stow it away. She had seen this video several times already, and its hateful message was burned into her memory banks. But she tapped the screen to play it again, knowing Shockwave was still intent on analyzing every astrosecond of it to mine it for clues.

As Shockwave rewatched the video, Glory let her gaze lift to regard the Fleet Fox Tavern – a middle-of-the-road oilbar owned by an associate of Swindle's. Despite the truce, many establishments still heavily leaned toward serving one faction or the other, and the Fleet Fox's owner and atmosphere had attracted a mostly Decepticon clientele. Which must have been precisely the reason it had been targeted by the Knights of Cybertron, she feared.

It was a terrible sight, one she thought she would never see again with the signing of the peace treaties. The entire front of the building had been laid open by the blast, exposing the bar's mangled interior. The fires had been mostly extinguished, though Hot Spot and Inferno were still searching the building for hidden blazes, but rubble and mangled furniture still littered the floor of the tavern and the sidewalk and street outside. Wounded still lay in the street, and a handful of medics moved among them to stabilize them for transport – First Aid, of course, but incredibly Steelwing and Knock Out had laid aside their usual animosity long enough to work together on the injured.

"Just slaggin' glad I let Steelwing talk us into going across the street for a drink," Blitzwing noted. "Otherwise my crew an' I mighta been in there."

Glory didn't reply, just reached out and gave his hand a tight squeeze. She wasn't a religious mechanism, but she still thanked whatever forces were looking out for their family for the small miracle.

"Our technicians are still searching for the cause of the explosion," Shockwave noted, not looking up from the screen. "The most logical explanation is that the Knights of Cybertron have access to a bomb technician who crafted an explosive device for them."

"Or they could have stolen some kind of incendiary," Glory pointed out. "Or bought it on the black market. We should contact Swindle and see if he's made any weapons sales lately."

"Doubtful," Blitzwing said with a snort. "Swindle backed out of the weapons market once he adopted Firebolt. Said he couldn't live with himself if his kid found out people were getting hurt because of his business."

Despite her recent interview with Galvatron and her horror at the destruction before her, Glory felt herself fighting not to smile. Who would have thought that being a parent would soften Swindle enough that he would pull out of a lucrative business venture on the child's behalf?

"Air Commander."

Glory turned to face the speaker… and felt the urge to smile fade away. It was SK-4708, one of the Sweeps who had surrendered at the Battle of Chaar and joined Shockwave's Decepticons after the defeat of Galvatron. Many of the Sweeps still served the Decepticon Air Force under her command, and most of them had taken on new names and even new appearances – some simply changing out wings or faceplates or helms, others opting for different colors, and still others discarding their old frames entirely in favor of Seekers or other flying types. A few held onto their old frames and serial numbers, however, and Glory was not about to require they alter themselves if they didn't wish to do so.

But the sight of 4708 was a harsh reminder of Galvatron's words regarding Scourge, and she had to force herself to listen closely as the Sweep gave his report.

"The most critically wounded are en route to the nearest medical facility," he informed her. "We're still working on readying the dead for transport."

"Any of ours among the casualties?" she asked.

"Twelve fliers wounded, eight offlined," he reported. After a moment's hesitation, he added a bit more. "Four Sweeps among the dead."

She nodded. "Thank you, 4708, and I'm sorry about your comrades. Continue to stand guard. I doubt the Knights will strike the same location twice, but we'll take all possible precautions."

"Yes, ma'am." He stepped away.

"Frag all this," Steelwing muttered, wiping her hands as she stepped back to let a medevac team take the wounded Sweep she had been tending. "What a mess. And it wasn't just 'Cons hurt either – there were a few neutrals and even an Autobot among the dead. Don't these Knights care about collateral damage?"

"It's only logical to assume that some of your own will be injured or lost in any attack," Shockwave replied, not looking up from the tablet. "The Knights most likely assumed that any neutrals or Autobots killed in the bombing would be acceptable losses."

Steelwing snorted. "And here we get accused of not caring about civilians being caught in the crossfire. Fraggin' Autobot insurrectionists accusing US of being the violent ones when they're the ones trying to keep the fraggin' war going."

"Really, Steelwing, such language," Knock Out noted, walking up at that moment – though Glory couldn't help but note that he didn't walk so much as he _strutted,_ as if he were parading down a catwalk at an Iacon fashion show to display this season's latest colors and mods.

Steelwing glared. "Dozens of 'Con casualties and you harp on my swearing. Don't you care, fancy-rims?"

"I do care, very deeply," Knock Out replied, his expression grave. "I brought my family unit to Cybertron because I believed, like many others, that it was finally safe for Decepticons to call it home. It pains me to see that I was wrong."

"I know," Glory told him with a sigh – somehow she felt more able to show frustration among those not under her direct command than to fellow fliers. "We all felt that way. We've made such progress in restoring good relations with the Autobots that this..." She gestured toward the ruined tavern. "Feels like a huge blow."

Steelwing nodded, then peered at the tablet, showing no shame at studying the video over Shockwave's shoulder. "That's the broadcast? Must have missed it – we don't exactly keep viewscreens playing in the clinic outside the waiting room."

Shockwave nodded and tilted the screen to allow her to watch. The carformer studied it, tapping her chin with a finger, metallic brow furrowed beneath her scarlet chevron.

"That mech's been modded up to his optics," she noted at last. "Recently too."

"You can tell?" asked Glory. To her, the spokesmech of the Knights just looked like a bulky shadow.

"It's rather obvious to those of us who specialize in mods," Knock Out added. "It's quite clear when a mech's just had modifications or a change of frame – they're twitchy, unable to hold still."

"It's a lot more obvious in fliers or certain makes of car-bots, since they've got those expressive wings," Steelwing added, waggling her own doorwings to emphasize her point. "But still, watch how he jerks his shoulders around. He's either gotten mods not too long ago and hasn't acclimatized yet, or he's wearing temporary mods to disguise his frame shape for the video."

Shockwave nodded. "Thank you, Steelwing and Knock Out. This is helpful information."

Steelwing and Knock Out shared a startled look, as if neither could believe they had just agreed on something.

"There's got to be something we can do," said Glory, anger and frustration welling up in her spark. "We can't just clean up the mess every time the Knights strike – we have to find them and stop them! But if their leader's modding himself to avoid detection, it's going to be even harder to track him down."

"We shall find the Knights of Cybertron," Shockwave assured her, shutting the tablet down and handing it back to Glory. "There is no question about that. The situation is not hopeless – their leader might be modifying his appearance, but that in itself can be used to locate him."

"He wouldn't be using legitimate mod shops," Knock Out insisted. "Not if he has a byte of sense in his CPU. Still… there are always the unlicensed ones, or the ones that specialize in black-market parts. And those that run them MIGHT be willing to talk if given proper incentive."

"That's a fraggin' big _might,_ " Steelwing grumbled, kicking a scrap of rubble into the street. "Frag… all of this happening just when it felt like I could walk down the street without getting harassed for my faction, too."

"Oh, hush," Blitzwing grumbled. "With your frame type, you've got it a lot easier than some of us."

"You hush," she snapped. "Just 'cause I can pass as an Autobot doesn't mean I don't still get hounded for the sigil I wear."

Glory turned sharply toward Shockwave, wings hitching higher in realization. Shockwave's headfins flicked in response, as if he'd come to the same conclusion at the same moment. They exchanged a quick comm burst, then Shockwave gave a nod and turned back to the Praxian-built carformer.

"Steelwing, you once served the Decepticons as an infiltrator," he told her. "We require you to serve us again in that capacity."

Steelwing's optics flared brighter. "You want me to join the Knights. To be an undercover agent."

"We have to know who's leading them and where they're headquartered," Glory insisted. "We need someone on the inside… and you're our best bet. Do you have any personas you can reactivate and use for this mission?"

Steelwing's optics narrowed, though in thought rather than annoyance. "Blinker was compromised during our last mission here before the Battle of Chaar. Quicksilver's MIA but still in the system, though a bit too closely connected to Ultra Magnus to be entirely safe. Best bet would be Hardware or Streetstar."

"Then you accept the mission?" asked Shockwave.

Steeling nodded. "I accept. Just give me a few days to tweak my appearance and reactivate my cover story. I'll keep you updated on my progress."

"Very good. Dismissed."

Steelwing saluted and strode off.

"Knock Out, see to the wounded. Blitzwing, you're dismissed. Glory… I want a word with you."

Part of Glory wanted to flinch and bolt at those words – whether they came from her superior officer or from her uncle, they had never meant anything good. But she followed Shockwave as he led her a short distance from the ruined bar, doing her best to keep her composure. She suspected what this was about, and she still had no idea what to say about it.

"You were not present at the flight drills this morning." At least Shockwave wasted no time getting to the point.

"Stormrunner informed me she had the drills well in hand," Glory replied evenly. "And I had other business."

His headfins pinned back. "And the nature of that other business?"

Galvatron's revelation burned in her memory banks, screaming to be released. But she settled for a single word in reply. "Personal."

"I place a lot of trust in you, Air Commander Glory," Shockwave informed her, headfins tilted so far back he looked like an angry electro-cat. "Far more than I normally would, because unlike Air Commanders of the past you have proven yourself worthy of that trust. You have been granted a certain measure of freedom to pursue personal interests… but be warned that I will not tolerate you abusing my trust."

She felt her fans kick up a notch in sudden worry, and did her best to still them. She walked a fine line at the moment – Shockwave might trust her, but all it would take was one slip-up for that trust to be ruined. He had already done a great deal to protect her over the vorns, from ensuring she reached sanctuary on Beta Geode after the disastrous attempt on Cyclonus' life to continuing to stand by her even when countless mechs, both Autobots and Decepticons, sneered at someone as young as her being granted such a position of authority. If she were to break that trust after all he'd done, the consequences would be dire.

"Understood," was all she said.

He regarded her a moment longer, then let his headfins prick back up. "Dismissed." He made a show of checking a display panel on his wrist, quite unnecessary when most mechs possessed internal chronometers. "I would suggest you hurry to the Academy. School will be released soon."

"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice warmer and less formal. Perhaps it would ease her turbulent spark to be the one to pick up Swift from school instead of Blitzwing. And she could use a little family time at the moment.

* * *

"Mama, why can't Wildfire come to school with me?"

Glory looked down at Swift and cracked a little smile. "Sweetspark, Wildfire doesn't like strangers. He wouldn't let anyone near you except the other kids, and the teachers wouldn't like that."

"But what if bad guys come to get me at school? Like the ones that shot Stardust's dad?"

"Swift, you're perfectly safe at the school. They keep it well guarded." Though Swift had inadvertently brought up one of Glory's biggest concerns about the Knights of Cybertron – that at some point they wouldn't be content targeting adult mechs and would go after sparklings to drive their mission home. She desperately hoped it would never come to that, and that even the Knights would respect the long-standing tradition to not involve children in war.

"I still wanna bring him to school sometime," Swift insisted. "The other kids love him. And I know he gets lonely at home by himself."

Glory laughed softly. "I'm sure he does, sweetie, but he'll be fine." At least Swift spoke the truth – all the sparklings adored Wildfire, and the fact that the horse-former drone would ruthlessly rip apart anyone who tried to lay a hand on the sparklings seemed only to make them love him all the more. And Wildfire hated being separated from his young charge, and would often spend hours at the window waiting for her to come home while she was at school.

Blitzwing and Shockwave had made good on their promise to rebuild Wildfire once the Decepticons were resettled on Cybertron – somehow Hook had managed to save her old bodyguard's processor core. Despite knowing that he was little more than a sparkless drone, some part of Glory felt as if reactivating Wildfire was regaining a part of the family she had lost, a link to her past. Though it wasn't mere nostalgia that made her want the ornery bodyguard back – even if the war was over, Swift still needed protection as a high officer's daughter, and Wildfire would provide that as well as companionship for the little femme.

Glory had worried that Wildfire's processor would need reprogramming in order to recognize Swift as his charge rather than a possible threat. But Shockwave explained that Wildfire had never been programmed to protect Glory alone – he was simply programmed to guard any sparkling in the vicinity, whether it was Glory or not. He had never seen the need to narrow the program's specifics to a single sparkling, as Glory had been the only child aboard the _Nemesis_ at that time.

Now... now Wildfire took to Swift every bit as well as he had taken to Glory, and trailed her like a faithful turbohound whenever she was home. He took commands well enough from Blitzwing, though, and on occasion he would even approach Glory and nose at her hand or rub up against her leg like a cat. It was as if he recognized her despite her upgrade, and still wanted to ensure she was okay.

Swift's voice interrupted her reverie. "Mama, who's that?"

Glory glanced up, wings angling sharply upward with tension… then relaxed. "Updraft… I wasn't expecting to see you here."

The crimson Seeker leaned back against the wall near Glory's apartment, a slight smile on her dark faceplate. "Sorry for dropping in like this, Air Commander."

"Glory," she corrected. "Just Glory when I'm not on duty."

"All right… sorry for dropping in like this, Glory. Dad commed me after flight drills and told me about the attack, and that he saw you at the scene in the aftermath. He thought you could use someone to talk to."

Glory blinked, surprised at that. Knock Out was a lot more observant – and less self-centered – than she'd assumed. "It… it's been a rough day. But I'll be all right."

Updraft arched an optic ridge. "Forgive me for being so blunt to an officer, even an off-duty one, but you're not all right. It's obvious something's weighing you down, and if nothing else, I'd like to provide a listening audial. We might not know each other terribly well yet, but I'd like to think of you as a friend. And us young Seekers need to stick together, right?"

Glory couldn't help a smile at Updraft's forthright manner. Maybe backtalking an officer wasn't the smartest thing, especially among the Decepticons, but Glory appreciated honesty a lot more than subterfuge. And to be honest, she liked Updraft, and was glad she felt comfortable enough around her to think of her as a friend. "Thank you."

"Not a problem." Her gaze moved down to Swift, who was clinging to Glory's leg and doing her best to hide behind it. "Who's this?"

"This is Swift, my daughter." She reached down and patted the blue sparkling's helm. "Swift, this is Updraft, a friend of mine. Don't be shy."

Swift peered out from behind Glory's leg, her voice a soft squeak. "Hi."

"Hi, little one." Updraft smiled and gave a little wave. "You're a cutie, aren't you? And that's a lovely color on you."

Swift ducked behind Glory's leg again, though she giggled.

"How old is she?" Updraft asked.

"About…" Glory had almost said _twenty years,_ but caught herself – like many of the mechs who had lived on the _Nemesis,_ she'd fallen into the habit of measuring time in Earth years, a habit Shockwave discouraged as much as possible. "About a quarter of a vorn. We're not sure of her exact age – her records were destroyed when her creators died, and Shockwave could only get an estimate."

Updraft's optics glowed brighter with interest, and Glory braced herself for the inevitable question-and-answer period – _yes she's adopted, yes she's one of Shockwave's Academy sparklings, yes I still consider her my daughter_. But Updraft merely nodded and smiled.

"My parents have a huge soft spot for sparklings, though you wouldn't know it from looking at them," she said. "They'd love to meet her someday."

"Maybe we can arrange it sometime," Glory replied. "But I've been rude, not even inviting you inside. Here, let me go in first."

"If it's a mess you're worried about, I don't care," Updraft assured her. "I grew up with siblings, I'm used to clutter."

"It's not the mess I'm worried about," Glory replied. She keyed open the door, bracing herself to intercept a headlong charge. Having a wild bodyguard drone trample her guest upon arrival didn't seem like the best way to make a good impression.

Swift ended up pushing her way inside first, optics bright with glee. "Wildfire! Here, boy!"

A deep, rough whinny echoed through the apartment, and a blur of red and gold streaked toward the door. Updraft tensed, but Wildfire ignored her completely, skidding to a halt in front of Swift and dipping his head to nuzzle insistently against her chest.

"Swift safe," he growled. "Good. Keep Swift safe."

"I'm okay, boy," Swift assured him, skritching him behind the audial receptors. "Everyone missed you at school today. But Valiant's gonna come over this weekend!"

Wildfire huffed a hot vent of air against Swift's neck. "Keep Valiant safe too." His gaze moved up to Glory, and his optics lit up with something almost like fondness.

"Hey boy," Glory greeted, reaching down to rub at his neck. "Yes, she's home safe, as always." She nodded to Updraft, who was staring at the equine mech with a dumbfounded expression. "This is Updraft. She's a guest. Treat her nicely."

Wildfire turned to regard the red Seeker, his oval optics bright with curiosity. Then his audials flicked back, and his tail switched as he gave a low snarl.

"Wildfire!" Swift cried. "Be nice!"

He continued to growl, and his joints flexed as if preparing to spring.

"Wildfire, down," Glory ordered as sternly as she could. "Updraft is not a threat. She's safe. She's our guest."

Wildfire looked unconvinced, but his audials perked back up as Swift hugged him about the neck. She kept her arm draped loosely over his shoulders as she led him deeper into the apartment, murmuring in his audial.

"Um…" Glory got the feeling that Updraft wasn't often at a loss for words, and she laughed softly.

"Wildfire is Swift's pet," she explained. "He was originally programmed to be a bodyguard, but he's shaped like an animal so she's more comfortable with his presence. He's a bit… dedicated to his job."

"So I noticed," Updraft replied, raising an optic ridge. "And you trust him around her?"

"He's very devoted to her," Glory assured her. "Well, to any sparkling. He was my bodyguard when I was young, and it just seemed natural to assign him to Swift."

Updraft nodded, though her expression remained doubtful. "Just what sort of childhood did you have that you needed THAT as a bodyguard?"

"Not a normal one," Glory replied, leading Updraft to the living room. Swift had already commandeered the viewscreen, setting up a movie before reclining back against Wildfire's bulk. She smiled fondly at the pair before taking a seat, and was relieved to see Updraft sit down as well instead of heading right for the door. Wildfire certainly made an impression on guests, not always a positive one.

"So how are you settling in?" asked Glory.

"Well enough," Updraft replied. "I've been helping Knock Out get established at the mod shop in between patrol shifts, and Breakdown's helping my siblings get situated. We all keep busy, but I don't mind it so much."

Glory frowned. "You know Breakdown?"

"He's one of my creators, I'd sure hope I knew him," Updraft replied, giving a little laugh.

Glory stared at her, baffled. She'd been around Breakdown for years now, and there was no way the Stunticon could have produced offspring of any kind, let alone one now Updraft's age. Unless she was entirely wrong about his age…

"And no, this Breakdown isn't a Stunticon," Updraft added. "We've gotten that confusion a LOT since we got here. They just share a designation."

Glory felt her faceplates heat up in embarrassment. "Sorry… I'm good friends with the other Breakdown, and I was just wondering how on Cybertron he'd managed to have a kid without any of us knowing. Well, he and his teammates have a sparkling now, but that's different circumstances altogether."

"No need to be sorry," Updraft assured her. "Identical names crop up a lot, especially between the colonies." She tilted her head to one side. "But I didn't come here to talk about my life. What's bothering you, Glory?"

Glory sighed. "It's a long story… and keep in mind that I'm not allowed to talk about parts of it. Some things fall strictly under high command confidentiality."

"I'm fine with that."

She took in a deep intake, then let it out slowly. At least Updraft seemed to be a willing and understanding audience. And perhaps she could help her unravel the tangled knot her life had become since that fateful encounter with Galvatron.


	7. Discussions

Glory was quite sure that Updraft hadn't intended on staying this late. What she had hoped would only be an hour's discussion or so had stretched late into the night, until even Blitzwing had declared himself done with the conversation and gone to play a game. They had only taken a break for Glory to give Swift her evening energy and tuck her into bed, and even then the conversation had resumed as soon as they were sure the sparkling was unlikely to be woken up by their chatter.

"Wow," Updraft noted, staring down into the high-grade Glory had poured her. "I have to confess… I knew you were the youngest Air Commander in Decepticon history, but I had no idea you were that young. Younger than me, even."

"I get that a lot," Glory admitted. "A lot of the fliers resent having a commanding officer who's so much younger than they are. They obey orders well enough, but you can tell it upsets them to do so. Thankfully Shockwave supports me."

Updraft sighed and set her cube aside. "And here I thought I had an interesting childhood. Yours kind of tops it."

"It wasn't supposed to be a competition," Glory replied, though she couldn't help a chuckle.

She hadn't intended to tell the red Seeker her entire life story, just unload her frustrations and worries about the Knights and the colony attacks. But Updraft had proven to be a surprisingly good listener, and somehow Glory had managed to open up about the rest of it – how Thundercracker had raised her after her parents' deaths, how she had thought he had perished at the Battle of Autobot City… and how Galvatron had revealed the truth. It had taken longer than she'd expected to tell the whole story, as Updraft had been raised on Velocitron and needed to be updated on the end of the war and its resulting fallout, but she'd shown no signs of being bored by the unexpected history lesson.

"We got word of the end of the war, and of Galvatron and his overthrow," she confessed. "We also knew that things couldn't have been good for the Decepticons – we lost contact with Shockwave's tower and figured that meant we had lost the planet – but we didn't realize things had been that bad."

"It was a hard time," Glory acknowledged. "Galvatron was – is – a madmech, and in his insanity and arrogance he nearly starved us all to death. If Shockwave hadn't staged his coup when he did, we'd all be dead by now."

"And you were a sparkling caught up in all this?" Updraft's optics flashed. "Where was an adult to look after you?"

"Swindle did the best he could," Glory insisted, instinctively leaping to the Combaticon's defense. "He pretty much took over raising me after my uncle died. And he tried to shield me from the worst of it, even after my upgrade. Still… it was hard."

Updraft's optics flared again. "He shouldn't have just 'shielded you from the worst.' He should have shipped you off to one of the colonies as soon as it was obvious things weren't going to get better. There are plenty of mechs who would have taken care of you – slag, my father would have adopted you in a spark-pulse if he'd known your situation – and you would have been a lot safer. And NOT been forced to upgrade early."

Glory felt her wings twitch in annoyance. "Swindle was my family, even if we didn't share programming. And I had friends among the Decepticons – Pit, the Stunticons were practically brothers to me. How could I have left them to suffer? Maybe it was harder staying with them, but I don't regret it."

"I still… argh." Updraft sighed deeply. "Maybe you're right, but still, it makes my spark twist to hear a kid had to go through all that." She shook her head. "At any rate, I guess it's the past, and you can't change it."

"No," she replied, "but I'm doing what I can to make sure Swift has a good future, and a better childhood. Which is why it's breaking my spark to see the Knights of Cybertron trying to undo all the progress we've made. And the Quintessons couldn't have picked a worse time to pick up hostilities."

"And then this revelation from Galvatron on top of all of it," Updraft added. "How do you not just crack under all this pressure?"

Glory didn't reply – she had no idea of the answer herself. Indeed, she felt like something inside her was fracturing under the stress of every crisis, and she wondered just how much more of a burden she could shoulder before everything gave way. Maybe going to confront Galvatron hadn't been such a good idea after all…

"Who's Scourge?" Updraft asked, sensing she wasn't going to get an answer and shifting the topic slightly. "I've heard of Galvatron and Cyclonus, but not Scourge."

"He was the leader of the Sweeps," Glory replied. "During the Battle of Chaar he led the Sweeps against Shockwave's forces, but once Menasor switched sides he surrendered and was taken into custody. He ended up cutting a deal and being released in exchange for information."

"Did he ever drop any hints that he might have really been your uncle?"

It was Glory's turn to vent deeply. "No. As a sparkling, I might as well have not existed as far as he cared. As an adult, we simply ignored each other. The rest of us fliers kind of disdained the Sweeps, and they avoided us." She frowned, guilt twinging in her spark. "Which makes it a little weird that now they're so loyal to me, when I didn't exactly treat them well before."

"They know what it's like to be disdained by the rest of the fliers, and so sympathize?" Updraft suggested. "Or maybe Scourge encouraged the animosity and they just appreciate being able to be friendly with other fliers again. Who knows?" She shrugged. "It's possible Galvatron was just messing with you, you know. Making slag up to get a rise out of you."

"If that's the case, it sure worked," Glory replied, scowling. "But that's the problem – I don't know that he wasn't telling the truth. He could very well be right, and I've spent all these years assuming I'd lost the last of my family when they've been there all along…"

"Calm down, Glory," Updraft urged, leaning forward to grasp and squeeze her arm. "I know how important your uncle was to you, but it's not something to work yourself into a frenzy over. You can just talk to Scourge outright and find out for yourself, can't you?"

Glory winced. So simple… and yet so impossible. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"I literally can't," she retorted. "Scourge left the planet shortly after the Battle of Chaar. He claimed that because he worked so closely with Galvatron and Cyclonus, even though he didn't like them, he'd just be a terrible reminder to the Decepticons of a madmech's reign. To this day we have no idea where he is."

"…oh." Updraft's optics dimmed in disappointment. "Sorry. I thought he was still around."

Glory shook her head. "Not your fault. I just wish I'd been nicer to him. And that I'd learned this before he took off." She idly swirled the last of her fuel in her cup, hoping to distract herself from her thoughts.

"There's something else on your processor," Updraft noted. "I can tell."

Glory frowned. "You have sharp optics. But it's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it's making your wings twitch like you've got rust mites," Updraft pointed out. "What is it?"

She hesitated. The thought had been lurking in the back of her mind, hidden while her CPU grappled with the revelation as to Galvatron and Scourge's identities, yet still present. And somehow it had managed to grow and darken the longer it haunted her, until it troubled her every bit as much as the knowledge that Scourge was – or had once been – her uncle. Perhaps more so, because if it was true it had disturbing implications.

Updraft's smaller hand rested in Glory's, squeezing it. "Talk to me, Glory. Not as an Air Commander, but as a friend. Please… what's bothering you?"

Glory shuttered her optics, as if that could somehow hold back her emotions. "Galvatron says he, Scourge, and Cyclonus were all reformatted from mechs that were presumed dead after Autobot City. Megatron became Galvatron, Thundercracker became Scourge… but he didn't say who was reformatted to become Cyclonus. I just can't help but wonder…"

Updraft frowned as Glory trailed off, tilting her head to one side. "Go on."

"Skywarp was there too," she choked, her vocalizer threatening to seize up with remembered grief. "He was… he was like another uncle to me. He and TC were close… and he helped to raise me. If TC was – is – Scourge, then was Skywarp Cyclonus?"

Updraft twitched, and she squeezed her hand tighter. "Glory…"

"Was he Skywarp all along?" Now that the words had come out, there was no holding them back – they spilled out of their own accord. "Was the mech who supported a tyrant and made all our lives hell Skywarp? Did he remember me, even when he was trying to kill me? Did…" Cleanser streamed from beneath her closed optic shutters, and the last came out in a strained whisper. "Did I kill Skywarp?"

She didn't register that Blitzwing had come back into the room until she felt his arms around her. The triple-changer pulled her tightly to his chest, and the warmth and rumble of his engine finally undid her. She clung to him, sobbing, the old grief and the fresh pain of her new, terrible knowledge finally too much to contain.

"Let it out, Glory," he murmured. "Just let it out. You've held it back so long, trying to be strong… just let it out."

"We're here for you," Updraft added, her own voice soft with worry.

She wanted to protest, to insist that she was Decepticon and Air Commander, that she should be stronger than this. But she couldn't deny that for all she had done and been through, she was still just a young femme trying to make sense of her life and her past. She had tried so hard to push her grief and her fear aside, to focus on the present instead of the past, but it had all caught up to her regardless.

Her optics burned, and her HUD registered a warning that her cleanser reservoirs were low. Taking a shuddering intake of air through her fans, she tightened her embrace around Blitzwing for a moment before pulling away. She felt a little better after literally crying herself out – not good, but better.

"Don't do this to yourself, Glory," Blitzwing said, his voice rough but not unkind. "You don't know that Cyclonus came from Skywarp. There were Insecticons tossed off Astrotrain that day too – he could easily have been forged out of bug-scrap. Or Galvatron could just be lying through his denta. He ain't exactly reliable, y'know."

Glory sighed deeply. "Still… there's a chance…"

"And there's a chance Dinobots will quote the Bard of Darkmount from the tops of the Towers tomorrow," Updraft retorted. "There's a chance for everything, but whether it's a significant chance is another thing entirely. Besides… even if Galvatron is correct, that's no proof that Thundercracker or Skywarp actually survived the battle."

"But…" Glory protested.

"Galvatron says that Unicron created them from the chassis of existing Decepticons," Updraft went on. "For all we know, though, they could have been dead already when he found them. Or whatever was left of them didn't survive the reformatting."

"Sounds pretty likely," Blitzwing noted. "Not like Scourge or Cyc had much in common with TC or Warp. Believe me, we woulda known if some part of Skywarp lived on in Cyc. He'd have been a LOT less bootlickin' toward Galvatron, for one thing."

Despite herself, Glory felt a smile tug at her lip plates. "Probably more likely to push him down the first flight of stairs that presented itself. Or at the very least plug his cannon up with streamers."

Updraft gave a soft laugh. "I wish I could have met him. And your uncle. I think I would have liked those two."

"I think they would have liked you too, Updraft." That wasn't flattery on Glory's part – Thundercracker and Skywarp would have gotten along well with this bright, feisty young Seeker. She just wished they were around to meet her.

Updraft squeezed Glory's hand again. "I really had better get going. Dad's messaging me wondering if I ran into a tower on the way home." She rolled her optics slightly. "If you need anything, though, comm me."

"I will," Glory replied. "Thank you, Updraft. It helped, talking some of it out."

"I'm glad." The red Seeker gave a little smile. "Us young Seekers have to stick together, after all."

Glory walked Updraft to the door, and watched her transform and soar off into the night before going to join Blitzwing in the bedroom. Her spark still ached and her CPU still churned from everything that had happened over the past few days, but it still eased her mind to know that she had an ally on her side. It wouldn't answer all her questions or completely quell the fear that she'd done something unforgivable… but it helped.

* * *

Optimus Prime was one of the most iconic figures to rise from the Great War and its aftermath – a figure that commanded respect and instilled awe and, occasionally, fear in every spark. He was well-known for his deep sense of honor, his compassion for sentient creatures of all sorts, and his strong belief in a free Cybertron for all Cybertronians, not just the Autobots. Even the Decepticons who had fought directly against him held a grudging admiration for him, even if they would only admit it upon pain of deactivation.

There was one side to Optimus that wasn't often seen, however – his unexplained but profound fondness for sparklings.

"Echo, what's taking so long out there?" a high, young voice called out from the room Prime had just been about to pass. "You didn't lose the ball again, did you?"

The bronze sparkling – Echo, Prime guessed – didn't answer. He just stared up at the Prime with undisguised awe… and just a little fear. The ball he'd been sent out to fetch lay at his feet, entirely forgotten.

Prime knew he should give an apology, step around the little mech, and continue toward the conference room. Shockwave and his officers had requested another meeting with the Autobot commanders to update them on the situation with the Quintessons, after all. As Prime, he had an example to set, and it would upset the Decepticon officers – and annoy Ultra Magnus to no end – if he was anything less than punctual.

Echo blinked up at him, amber optics rebooting in wonder. "Are you the real Prime?"

Prime felt a chuckle bubble up from his chest, and he fired off a quick message to Jazz. _Let everyone know I'm going to be a little late. Unexpected diplomatic opportunity. See if you can't stage a distraction of some kind._

 _Roger-dodger,_ Jazz replied, his voice knowing and full of mirth. "Unexpected diplomacy" usually meant that Prime had come across a sparkling and wanted to spend a little time with them.

Prime sank down to one knee to better address Echo – he'd found long ago that getting closer to a sparkling's level made them much less apt to be afraid of him. "Yes, little one. I'm Optimus Prime, and I can assure you I'm very real."

The sparkling bent down and retrieved the ball, not taking his gaze from Prime. "I'm Echo."

"Hello, Echo. How are you doing this day?"

"Fine." He shifted from foot to foot, unsure how to proceed.

"What's taking so long?" demanded another sparkling, this one yellow and black and with a jagged helm that comically resembled the hairstyles often seen in human anime. He stomped out of the room, arms outstretched to take the ball from Echo, only to stop in his tracks and gape at the Prime. "Whoa!"

Prime chuckled. "Hello there. Are you a friend of Echo's?"

The yellow sparkling stared a moment longer, then nodded eagerly. "My name's Hornet! I'm Onslaught's son." He beamed with pride as he said this, as if it were the most important thing in the world. "Echo's Soundwave's son, if he didn't tell you already."

"Hornet," Echo whined. "He doesn't have to know _everything._ "

"He's the Prime, I bet he knows everything already!" Hornet insisted. "Maybe the Matrix tells him stuff!"

Prime chuckled. "Oh, I hardly know everything, little ones. But I do know that it's very good to meet the two of you. Your parents are in the meeting, I take it?"

Echo nodded. "Dad says all the officers are supposed to be there. But we couldn't go. 'Grown-up stuff, not for kids,' Rumble says." He looked a little put out at being left out of something important.

"I take it the other children of officers are present as well?" Prime tilted his head to peer into the room, which must have been serving as a daycare of sorts while the officers convened.

"Uh-huh," Hornet replied, nodding eagerly. "Us two, Swift, an' Stardust. Lancer an' Ricky were s'posed to be here too, but Lancer's got a virus an' is home with his uncles, an' I guess Ricky's dads didn't come, so Ricky's home with them."

Prime nodded in reply. He had found that children appreciated it when you showed interest in what they said, rather than just blowing them off or telling them to be quiet. Curious that Motormaster wouldn't be invited to an officer meeting despite being a gestalt leader… but then, he tended to be unpredictable at the best of times, so perhaps Shockwave and Glory had simply decided to err on the side of caution.

"Stardust… I'm not familiar with that name," Prime admitted. "Does one of you have a new sibling?"

Echo fidgeted, an uncomfortable expression on his face. "His dad died… he's staying at our place for now."

Prime's spark lurched, and he looked up to see the other two sparklings regarding him warily from the doorway. Little blue Swift was recognizable enough, even as she tucked her face into her stuffed dragon until only the corner of one red optic was visible, but he'd only ever seen the slender silver-and-navy sparkling in passing. And though he seemed curious about their visitor, there was a shadow over his optics, a sense of loss Prime had seen all too often in the faces of those scarred in some way by the war.

 _The Autobots assume that with the treaty in effect, such tragedies can't happen anymore,_ he thought darkly. _But the Decepticons are still thrust into the thick of the fighting and know otherwise. Have we truly ended the war, or simply redirected the violence and trauma so we no longer have to face it ourselves?_

The Matrix flared within his chest, and though it had no answers at the moment, it too seemed to mourn for young Stardust's loss. He shuttered his optics, waiting for the surge of energy to pass, then raised a hand toward the two blue sparklings.

"Hello, little ones," he greeted. "Don't be afraid. I'm just here to say hello."

Stardust whimpered and shied back, but Swift took a hesitant step closer. She lowered the dragon toy enough that both optics and her mask were visible, and though her expression was hidden to him her optics blazed with curiosity.

"You're the Air Commander's daughter," Prime noted. "She speaks quite highly of you."

Swift's optics widened. "She does?"

Prime nodded. "Indeed… though I'm pleased to make your acquaintance at last, young one."

"I wish the rest of us could say otherwise, Prime."

Prime's head snapped up, meeting the glare of the Air Commander herself. She regarded the Autobot leader with narrowed optics, arms folded across her chest, mouth set in a stern line.

"Air Commander Glory," he greeted, pushing himself to his feet. "I was just saying hello to your daughter."

"So I noticed." Her voice was even, but her tone was barbed. "Swift, go back to Rumble and Frenzy, okay?"

"But Mama…" Swift protested.

"No buts," Glory insisted. "That goes for the rest of you two. You're supposed to stay where the cassettes can see you."

"Aw, but the Prime's so cool!" Hornet whined, but he ducked back into the room anyhow. Stardust and Echo followed, though Echo paused for one last look at Prime before scurrying out of sight. Swift was last, and she ducked behind her dragon toy and gave a shy little wave before scooting back to her play.

Prime inclined his head respectfully toward Glory. "I meant no offense, Air Commander. I only meant to see how the next generation was coming along. We're working to ensure a better Cybertron for them, after all."

Glory gave the barest nod in return, little more than a twitch. "They're doing just fine, Optimus Prime. They don't need you Autobots meddling in their lives any more than you already have."

"If you're referring to the attempts to re-educate them, rest assured that took place without my knowledge or consent," he replied. "And if I recall correctly, I even helped you rescue them once I learned of their fates. I have no desire to see sparklings hurt due to our generation's mistakes." He recalled Stardust's haunted optics and added "Or their caretakers."

Glory's optics flared at that, and her next words were infused with a deadly calm. "And yet you still shot down Thundercracker."

Prime suppressed the urge to sigh. She was never going to let that go, was she? Not a day didn't go by when he didn't regret taking so many lives, and for obvious reasons Thundercracker's death stung him more than most. He regretted killing him and hurting Glory so badly in the process… but he hadn't expected her to cling to her anger for so long, and he feared just what kind of damage it could do to her in the long run.

Glory, thankfully, changed the subject at that moment. "Shockwave sent me to find you. We're ready to deliver our report."

He nodded, and made to follow her. Time for reparations later, he supposed – for now they had a possible Quintesson conflict on the horizon to worry about.

* * *

"FOUR new attacks?" Ultra Magnus' optics blazed near-white with shock. "It's only been two decacycles since the last meeting! Tell me you're joking!"

"Our sense of humor might be more morbid than you Autobots can handle," Onslaught replied sardonically, "but even we would hardly joke about this."

"Primus," Jazz muttered, his usual easy smile gone as the implications of Shockwave's report sank in. "Four colonies attacked, an' two of 'em gone… the Quints ain't messin' 'round."

Soundwave nodded. "Attacks on Caminus and Velocitron: successfully repelled. Outpost on Austar IV: destroyed. No known survivors. Outpost on Neo-Kaon: partially evacuated before destruction. Death toll unknown at this time."

Glory struggled to maintain her composure as Soundwave delivered the news, but her spark ached anyhow. She mourned the loss of Austar IV… but Neo-Kaon had been the home of Emperor Deszaras and his Destrons, valuable allies during the Battle of Chaar and beyond. She suspected the self-styled Emperor had a few screws loose in his cranial unit, but despite that he was on a much more even keel than Galvatron had ever been, and she had always gotten along well with him during his visits to Cybertron. And he had adored Swift and the other sparklings, delighting in letting them crawl all over his beastly alt mode and spoiling them worse than Swindle ever had.

Seeing the Emperor disembark from the shuttle with the other Neo-Kaon refugees, battered and exhausted, had cut her deeply. Many of his most loyal Destrons had been captured or killed by the Quintesson invaders – and his conjux endura was among the missing. The stricken look in his optics still haunted her… and reminded her all too painfully of Stardust and his own loss.

 _How many more lives are going to be lost or wounded by the time this is all over?_ she thought. _And how can the Autobots sit there and argue over whether or not to declare war and FIGHT these monsters? If they could just see what we see…_

"Have the refugees been settled?" asked Prime, cutting off Glory's thoughts.

Shockwave nodded. "The Destrons are finding temporary lodging in Helex at this time. It is their hope to be able to reclaim their homeworld at some point in the future, however."

Kup snorted. "They finally get a chance to come back to Cybertron an' the first thing they wanna do is run back? 'Cons'll never make sense to me."

"We could say the same about Autobots," Hook muttered before a glare from Glory shut him up.

"We're going to have to increase our defenses on all colony worlds and outposts," Ultra Magnus declared. "Send more troops to bolster our fighting forces."

"And send more of our soldiers to die pointlessly?" Glory countered. "We need to actually DO something, not just dig ourselves in and wait for another attack."

Magnus scowled. "Naturally you Decepticons would leap on any opportunity to start up another war. Your job is to protect Cybertron, not conquer the universe."

"As if there were enough of us to conquer anything," Onslaught retorted. "We still haven't recovered our numbers since the Battle of Unicron…"

"All the more reason to preserve what troops we have and avoid a war!" Magnus countered.

Glory opened her mouth to speak, but Shockwave beat her to the punch. "We are already engaged in a war, Ultra Magnus. Perhaps no formal declaration of hostilities has been announced, but the Quintessons have forced a war of attrition on us regardless. They are capturing our colony worlds, destroying our outposts, and eliminating our soldiers a few at a time. And each attack takes them closer to Cybertron's star system – it is only a matter of time before they attack our homeworld. If we do not take action very soon, they will destroy everything we have fought to achieve."

Kup hesitated, and for a moment Glory thought that perhaps they had won an ally among Prime's officers. But he scowled and sat back in his chair, and her hopes fell. Primus, what was it going to take to sway these mechs' opinions?

"I promise you that we are taking these attacks seriously," Prime assured them. "Understand, however, that we are reluctant to be drawn into another war so soon after the last one. This matter will go before the full Council for vote – and in the meantime, we'll better our defenses here on Cybertron and on as many colonies as we can, and spread the word among the neutral colonies as best we can."

"A full convening of the Council isn't for another quartrex!" Hook protested. "We could all be dead or enslaved by that point!"

"I will petition for an emergency meeting of the Council," Prime replied. "You should have an answer within the decacycle. Is that acceptable?"

"That is acceptable… for now," Shockwave replied, though his headfins stayed tilted back. "Now for the second issue we wish to address – the Knights of Cybertron."

"THAT bunch of loonies," Kup growled. "Fraggin' young punks thinkin' they can change the truce by pitchin' a fit. Reminds me of that time back in Tyger Pax after the signin' of the Iacon Pact, some faction of-"

"Later, Kup," Prime told him, cutting the story short. "Shockwave, I can assure you that the Knights of Cybertron are in no way endorsed by the Autobots."

"We never accused you of such," Shockwave replied. "But that does not change the fact that they have been responsible for over a hundred deaths since the attack on the border at Praxus."

"Wait, I thought it was just the two attacks," Ultra Magnus insisted, scowling.

"There have been at least two more since then," Glory replied. "Just days after the bombing of the Fleet Fox, a gun-mech opened fire in the Kaon Archives. He killed twelve and wounded sixteen before turning the weapon on himself. And three days ago a transport went down over the residential block in Helex and killed both everyone aboard and at least forty on the ground. Both times the Knights released a video claiming responsibility."

Jazz and Prime looked stricken at the news, and even Magnus and Kup's jaws dropped. Glory, for her part, struggled to keep her composure. She had lost good fliers – and friends – in both attacks, and though those closest to her had escaped major injury, she feared it was only a matter of time…

"What actions have the Decepticons taken?" asked Prime.

"We are working to plant an undercover agent within the Knights," Shockwave replied. "Thus far we've had no reports as to whether they've successfully joined their numbers, but I'm confident they'll succeed."

Prime nodded. "Excellent. Jazz, do we have any special ops we can spare to aid them? These Knights are a terrorist organization as far as I'm concerned, and I won't have them stirring up old hostilities."

"On it, boss-bot!" Jazz declared. "Will get Mirage an' Stagecoach on it. Maybe Goldbug if he's back from Earth…"

"This is a Decepticon matter," Magnus cut in. "Why are we getting involved in this?"

"A Decepticon matter is still a matter that affects Cybertron as a whole," Prime replied, his optics blazing with growing anger as he turned toward the other truckformer. "And Autobot lives have been lost in these attacks as well. Will we truly just sit back and watch these self-styled Knights continue to take innocent lives?"

"It sounds as if they have the situation in hand," Magnus retorted.

"Over a hundred deaths is NOT a situation in hand!" Prime shot back, and Glory took an involuntary step back. She had seen Prime in the heat of battle before, seen him frustrated and even exasperated, but this was the first time she had ever truly witnessed his anger. And even directed at another, it was more than a little frightening.

"The Decepticons have repeatedly insisted we stay out of their affairs," Magnus replied. "So I say we give them what they want. Let them handle this situation themselves!"

Hook and Onslaught shot to their feet, belting out protests at the top of their vocalizers. Kup and Magnus shouted right back, with Jazz waving his hands in the air as he tried to restore some semblance of order. Prime repeatedly shouted for order, but everyone involved ignored him entirely.

Glory, for her part, quietly seethed. What was wrong with these Autobots? Were they really this short-sighted and stupid? If they were so dead-set against another war that they would bury their heads in the sand and ignore the Quintesson threat entirely, then why couldn't they see that doing nothing about the Knights of Cybertron would just reignite the Great War itself? Were they really that dense, or…

 _Do they secretly support the Knights?_ The thought was unspeakable, and it made her cringe internally, but now that it had lodged itself in her CPU it refused to leave. Perhaps the Knights weren't just a rogue faction of Autobots who hated the Decepticons and wanted them gone; perhaps they had the secret blessing of Autobot High Command.

Her optics rested on Magnus, and she recalled just how bulky the mech in the broadcasts had been. Could it be…

"ENOUGH!" Prime's bellow finally cut through the bedlam. "That is enough! We are civilized mechanisms – I suggest we talk like we are!"

Hook and Onslaught glowered at Prime, then slowly took their seats. Soundwave watched them carefully like a teacher ensuring two recalcitrant students were behaving, while Shockwave just rubbed at the space above his optic as if he had a cranial-ache coming on. Ultra Magnus and Kup sat back down, albeit with a muttered curse on Kup's part, while Jazz just bit his lower lip worriedly.

"The Knights of Cybertron are a threat to the Decepticons, and to any Autobots and neutrals unfortunate enough to be caught in their crossfire," Prime went on, his voice rumbling with barely restrained anger. "But they are more than just a terrorist organization. They are a symptom of a much larger problem – the continued distrust between our factions."

Glory rebooted her optics. She hadn't thought about that.

"The prejudice and animosity between our kinds isn't just about rekindled violence," Prime went on. "It's everywhere we look – businesses and establishments that offer preferential treatment to one faction or the other, doctors and medics who refuse to treat patients who don't wear the same sigil as they do, mechs and femmes who refuse to associate with others due to past or present affiliations. I understand that this is damage inflicted by millennia of war, and such damage doesn't heal overnight… but for Primus' sake we have to try. Because if we don't, these divisions will split us apart.

"And that, Ultra Magnus, is why were are going to offer Shockwave all the help he and his troops need in finding and apprehending the Knights of Cybertron. Because if we do not, we risk losing everything we have fought so hard to achieve."

Magnus narrowed his optics, then sighed and gave a sharp nod. "Fine. But I'm not entirely convinced that this is a good idea."

 _Of course you aren't,_ Glory thought, clenching her jaw. She needed another look at that last broadcast – she wasn't sure if Magnus' body shape would match up exactly with the silhouetted leader, but it was worth a shot. Though surely he wouldn't be THAT stupid to not alter his shape in some way for the video…

"I'll have spec ops on it in a jiffy, sir," Jazz assured Prime, saluting. "Want 'em to report to you or to Shockers?"

"To Shockwave," Prime replied, "if that's acceptable."

"Perfectly acceptable," Shockwave agreed. "You will keep us updated on the Council's actions, and alert us the moment they convene to vote on the Quintesson matter."

"Of course." Prime nodded and turned to his officers. "If there's nothing else, consider this meeting adjourned."

Glory managed to hold her vocalizer until they reached the lift, but the moment the doors shut behind her and Shockwave she released the words building up inside her.

"Magnus knows more than he lets on about the Knights."

Shockwave's headfins flared out in surprise. "Explain your reasoning, Air Commander."

"He's insistent that the Autobots not do anything about it," she replied. "And you've heard just how little he cares about Decepticon lives being lost, whether it's to the Quints or the Knights. Maybe he's afraid if Prime and Jazz go digging too far, they'll find out he's the one behind the broadcasts-"

Shockwave cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Leaping to conclusions will get us nowhere, Glory. We have no proof whatsoever that Ultra Magnus is involved with the Knights of Cybertron, as a leader or in any other capacity. We will wait until Steelwing reports back with more information before we act."

Her wings hitched high in annoyance. "Sir, with all due respect, can we afford to wait? The Knights could attack again at any minute!"

"Accusing Ultra Magnus of colluding with the Knights without any proof would be disastrous," Shockwave retorted. "We will do nothing at this time, Air Commander."

She wanted to argue, but the lift doors opened at that moment. She stepped out and turned toward the room Soundwave's cassettes had claimed as their "daycare" for the officers' sparklings… only to find someone had beat them there.

"Stormrunner?" Glory paused, confusion cutting through her agitation. "What are you doing here? I thought you still had classes."

"I have a substitute taking over for me," she replied. "I need to have a word with you two immediately."

Worry flared through her. Stormrunner would work through viruses, injuries, and even acid rain before allowing a substitute to take over her classes. Whatever was going on had to be serious.

Shockwave's headfins flickered back and forth. "Is this about the issue you raised two decacycles ago?"

Stormrunner nodded, a knowing look in her optics. "The same."

"Then let's take this somewhere semi-private," he replied, motioning them into a nearby conference room.

"What's going on?" Glory demanded, following Shockwave and Stormrunner into the room. "Did I miss something?"

"We all did," Stormrunner replied, irritation clipping her words. "I felt something was off about that new recruit, but I couldn't put my finger on it right away. But those flight drills you missed made me suspect something…"

Glory frowned. "Is this about Updraft? The new Seeker from Velocitron?"

"The same," Shockwave replied. "During the drills – drills you were regrettably absent from – there was a midair collision, and she managed to intercept a falling student before impact."

"Oh wow…" Now Glory was starting to regret missing that particular class. Midair rescues were dangerous but impressive, and if Updraft had the bearings and talent to pull one off, she was definitely an asset to her air corps. "Should I be assigning her an officer position, then?"

"No!" Stormrunner's denial was almost a shout. "That femme shouldn't be an officer. In fact, I'd strongly recommend shipping her back to Velocitron as soon as possible."

"You can't be serious," Glory retorted. "We need good fliers desperately, Stormrunner. And Updraft's got a good CPU on her shoulders. Besides, her family just got here – we have no right to uproot them now."

Stormrunner narrowed her optics. "You've befriended her already, haven't you?"

"So what if I have? She's a good femme, and I'd be proud for her to have my back in a fight. I don't know what you have against her all of a sudden, but I'm not kicking her offworld for it!"

"You might feel otherwise when Stormrunner finishes her explanation," Shockwave replied, then turned toward the black Seeker. "Judging by you reaction, it's safe to assume the tests were conclusive."

Stormrunner nodded sharply. "CNA test was a match. She's his get, all right."

Glory felt her tanks clench. "What are you talking about?"

"Updraft's not just any Seeker, Glory," Stormrunner replied. "She's the daughter of Air Commander Starscream."


	8. Heritage

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Updraft belongs to my beta-reader, Paradise Parrot. In her "official" story she is indeed Starscream's daughter, but some elements in her backstory have been altered to accommodate her shift to a different continuity, with permission from her creator._

* * *

Updraft folded her arms and glared at the assembled officers. "I've done absolutely nothing wrong, Lord Shockwave. I've done everything my commanding officers have asked of me. I don't understand why I'm being punished when I've broken no rules."

"We will be the judges over whether rules have been violated," Shockwave replied. "You can help your case by being honest with us."

"For once," Stormrunner grumbled. Shockwave swiveled his head around to glare at her, but she only glowered back defiantly.

Decepticon High Command had gathered for a hasty meeting with the new Seeker, determined to get to the bottom of this new mystery. It was a testament to the kind of legacy Starscream had left behind that the sudden news that he'd produced offspring could cause such a stir among the Decepticon officers. The fact that no one had even known of the existence of such an heir, when the creation of new sparklings had been so rare during the days of the war, only added to the ongoing confusion.

Glory, for her part, could only stare in bafflement at the young Seeker… the one she had come to regard as a friend and confidant. Updraft, the spirited and intelligent young flier she'd poured her spark out to just the other night, was Starscream's daughter, the progeny of the traitorous mech who had hated her and made her uncles' lives miserable. It was unthinkable – and yet Stormrunner had shown her the CNA scans, which had been a match. It was the truth, no matter how she wanted to deny it.

 _I trusted her with such personal information, too,_ she thought, dread clutching at her like a sickness. _How do I know she's not going to use that against me somehow? Did she come here hoping to take her father's title for herself?_ She'd given no indication that she was the power-hungry political schemer her father was, but then, Starscream had been smooth and charming when he wanted to be.

"You have withheld vital information from us," Shockwave told the red Seeker. "I do not tolerate lies from my soldiers, even if they are lies of omission."

Her optics flared, and her wings twitched irritably. "So that's it, then. This is about my past – something I have NO control over."

"You had complete control over this," Stormrunner shot back, her own wings held high with anger. "You should have been up-front with us from the beginning! Not left us guessing!"

"Guessing about who I just happen to share programming with?" she retorted in a voice ringing with fury. "As if that has anything to do with who I am now!"

"It has EVERYTHING to do with who you are!" Stormrunner shot back. "If Starscream's heir is among us, plotting some kind of takeover, we have a right to know!"

Updraft gave a bitter laugh, throwing her hands in the air. "Oh, so just because I was derived from his programming suddenly means I'm a clone of him or something? This is ridiculous!"

"Enough," Soundwave ordered, his calm monotone cutting through the angry bickering. "Full story: requested. Updraft: start at beginning."

Updraft's gaze moved to the communications officer, and incredibly her angry stance relaxed a notch. "What do you consider the beginning?"

"From creation onward," Soundwave replied.

Updraft nodded and pressed her hands to her temples, doing her best to collect herself before going on. Her wings still quivered with anger, however, and Glory was struck by just how much she resembled her creator when she was furious. The blazing optics, the defensive and almost belligerent stance, her expressions and the nuances of her gestures, even the way her voice climbed up in pitch when she raised it. She wondered how she hadn't noticed it before… though to be honest, she hadn't exactly been looking for the signs before now.

Finally the red femme opened her mouth to begin speaking – and shut it again as a crimson form burst through the doors, optics flashing and faceplates contorted in rage.

"And just what in the name of Unicron's skidplate is going on in here?!"

"Dad!" Updraft looked torn between relief and annoyance at seeing the red mech. "What the frag…"

"How did you get in here?" Stormrunner demanded, sounding more shocked than angry. "The guards shouldn't have let you past."

"Medical credentials," Knock Out replied without a lick of regret in his tone. "I haven't quite gotten around to renewing them, but the Sweeps you had stationed at the door didn't think to check that little detail." He strode up to Updraft's side. "Might I ask just what this is about? When I got word from my son that my daughter had just been dragged unannounced before the High Command-"

" _Your_ daughter?" Stormrunner repeated. "What kind of an idiot decides to create a child with Starscream anyhow?"

Knock Out's optics widened at that, then narrowed to slits as he regarded the black Seeker. "Ah, so that's what this is about. And yes, Stormrunner. _My_ daughter. She may not carry my programming, but I consider her mine regardless."

Updraft nodded sharply. "And I've always considered him my father. I've never even _met_ Starscream."

"Again, start at the beginning," Shockwave ordered. "I want a full explanation of your history, and why you chose to conceal it from us."

Her optics flared with anger, but she spoke in as level a voice as she could manage. "As long as I can remember I've lived on Velocitron with Knock Out and Breakdown. I've always thought of them as my parents, even though they never hid my heritage from me. When he judged me old enough to know the full story, my father sat me down and explained that he had found me as a newbuilt in a stasis pod in Vos, in an abandoned research laboratory that was slated for demolition. The mech who had owned the lab had vanished and was presumed dead, so my father assumed I was an orphan and took me in."

"And this laboratory belonged to Starscream, I presume," Shockwave noted.

Updraft nodded. "This was cycles before the _Nemesis_ and its crew resurfaced on Earth, so at that point everyone assumed Starscream was dead. Not that it really bothered me much – Knock Out and Breakdown were my parents. Knowing my real father's name was a curiosity and an irritation, nothing more."

Stormrunner snorted. "And you took her in knowing full well she was Starscream's, Knock Out?"

Knock Out had always struck Glory as a level-headed, if flamboyant, mechanism, so the look of pure hatred he shot Stormrunner surprised her. "Not all of us are prone to judging children for the sins of their creators, Stormrunner. I took her in knowing only that she was an orphan, like so many sparklings in this tragic war of ours… but I wasn't a fool. I did my research and discovered who the lab had belonged to… and for all his flaws, Starscream was meticulous enough to leave records behind regarding Updraft's creation."

"Records?" Glory repeated. That had been the first word she'd managed to speak since Updraft had arrived, and she wondered just how she could sound so calm with all the confusion and anger whirling through her spark at the moment.

"Records regarding Updraft's date of creation, the documents requesting permission for a key to Vector Sigma, and the like," Knock Out replied. "Starscream was her only parent – two are recommended, but not necessary. He put her into stasis only a matter of days after her creation, though, so one wonders just why he created a child in the first place…"

"Date of creation: requested," Soundwave ordered.

Knock Out gave it, and Shockwave nodded, his headfins relaxing slightly in realization. "She was created shortly before the _Nemesis_ left Cybertron. Doubtless Starscream intended to return and remove her from stasis once the mission was complete. He didn't anticipate being gone so long, or the laboratory being destroyed in his absence."

"Why didn't he track her down afterwards, though?" Glory asked. "Starscream was notoriously possessive…" The word she really wanted to use was _selfish,_ but no use upsetting these two anymore than they already were. "…and I can't imagine why he'd just create her only to forget about her."

Updraft shrugged. "Maybe he changed his mind about me. Or assumed I was killed when the labs were demolished. At any rate, I have no memories of him, and I'd rather accept Knock Out as my creator than him."

"That still doesn't explain why you hid your true identity from us," Stormrunner countered.

"To avoid THIS situation!" Updraft retorted. "Do you honestly think I enjoy being vilified over my programming? That I like knowing I'm the offspring of one of the most notorious traitors among the Decepticons? As long as I was just a colonist, daughter of a mods dealer from Velocitron, no one would even look twice at me. I could avoid that stigma. But now…" Her wings twitched as she glared back and forth between Stormrunner and Shockwave. "Now it's out in the open, and I'm being judged for a creator I never even knew. This is unfair!"

"Unfair to use caution in dealing with a new recruit of questionable heritage?" Shockwave replied. "Especially one willing to engage in subterfuge to hide said heritage? Records were surely altered in your attempts to conceal your identity."

"My doing, not hers," Knock Out cut in. "I felt it best to not leave a trail, in order to protect her. If you're going to punish anyone for falsifying records, let it be me."

"You're not the one under scrutiny here, Knock Out," Stormrunner told him. "Updraft has withheld information from us – that in itself proves she's not trustworthy, just like her creator. And in my opinion it's too risky to allow her to stay on this planet any longer."

She jerked up straight, faceplates contorted in fury. "You can't banish me! I haven't done anything wrong!"

"The decision on whether Updraft stays rests with High Command, Stormrunner," Shockwave told the black Seeker in a warning tone. "You have brought this matter to our attention, but you will leave the final decision to us."

Stormrunner clenched her jaw, but even as angry as she was she knew when to back down. "Of course… I just hope High Command makes the decision that's best for the Decepticons as a whole." She gave Glory a meaningful look before stepping back.

Knock Out rested a hand on Updraft's shoulder. "Let it be known that if you choose to send Updraft back to Velocitron, I take my entire family and follow her. Do you really want to lose several loyal Decepticons over this, Lord Shockwave?"

"If it ensures a little additional security at this time, then yes," Shockwave replied sternly. He turned to Glory. "You have been extremely quiet throughout all this, Air Commander. What is your recommendation? Updraft is a Seeker and falls under your command, after all."

Glory clenched her jaw, struggling to settle her feelings before she spoke. She had no love for the former Air Commander… and knowing that he was responsible for abandoning her dying uncle in deep space, depriving her of even a chance to say goodbye, still cut her deeply. Some part of her insisted that anything connected to him could only spell trouble, that if Updraft truly carried his coding then she wasn't to be trusted. And she was hardly the only mech to feel that way – Starscream had never been liked by any of the Decepticons, and the knowledge that he'd created a child would only ignite a new firestorm of controversy… and put Updraft's life in danger. Sending her back to Velocitron would be safest not only for the Decepticons as a whole, but for Updraft and her family too.

But her gaze rested on Updraft… and though the red Seeker's expression was furious, there was real fear in her optics. Glory's spark clenched, and some of the anger leached out of her. Updraft might be the daughter of Starscream, but she was also her friend. This revelation didn't – or shouldn't – change that fact, nor did it mean Updraft was destined to follow in her creator's footsteps.

 _Thundercracker would have liked her._ Some part of her felt a little silly for resorting to the "what would her uncle do" argument, but it still carried a great deal of weight for her. And in this case, she knew it was true – Thundercracker hadn't liked Starscream, but he wouldn't have judged Updraft for her past. He would have taken her under his wing like any other young Seeker, perhaps even encouraged Glory to get to know her. And he would have been highly upset with Updraft's treatment at this moment.

She held the red Seeker's gaze a moment longer, then nodded. "I vote that she stays."

Stormrunner jerked in place. "You can't be serious."

"I am serious." She smiled a little at the look of shock Updraft offered her. "She can't help who her creator is, and if we punish her for something she has no control over, we're no better than the Knights of Cybertron."

"Despite the fact that she has lied by omission to High Command?" Shockwave's tone was completely devoid of accusation – it sounded more like the question was to test Glory than anything else.

"She told us the truth – that Knock Out and Breakdown are her legal parents," Glory replied. "She was under no obligation to tell us about Starscream. And I'd say that this meeting is proof enough of why she felt she had to be cautious."

Shockwave nodded slowly. "Soundwave, your thoughts on the matter?"

Soundwave stared at Updraft for a long moment, until the red Seeker began to squirm under his scrutiny. "Relation to Starscream: irrelevant at this time. Fliers: needed."

"Even fliers who could betray us at the most inopportune time?" Stormrunner countered.

"Updraft: not inclined to treason." The communications officer gazed coolly at the black Seeker. "Value as a member of our aerial forces not negated by coding. My vote: she stays."

Shockwave nodded. "Then it is agreed. Updraft remains on Cybertron… though on a trial basis. We will keep her under scrutiny until we are certain she has no plans to upset the current balance of power."

Updraft scowled, though there was no hiding the relieved droop of her wings. "I'm still guilty until proven innocent, then?"

"If Galvatron, Cyclonus, or any other particularly infamous Decepticon were to produce offspring, we would keep just as close a watch on them," Shockwave replied calmly. "It is a precaution, and will be lifted once you have proven you can be trusted." He gestured toward the door. "Knock Out, you will provide us with proper documentation on Updraft's creation. Until then, this meeting is over."

Stormrunner rumbled ominously as she stalked out of the room, shooting Updraft a glower on the way out. Updraft held her chin high and did her best to ignore the older Seeker's glare as she, too, left the room.

Glory saluted Shockwave and Soundwave, then hurried out after her. "Updraft!"

Updraft slowed and turned to look at her over her shoulder. "Air Commander?"

"Glory… just Glory right now." She fell into step beside Updraft and Knock Out. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Knock Out inquired, arching an optic ridge. "You stood up quite admirably for my daughter in there. For that we should be thanking you, not accepting an apology."

"I'm still sorry she had to go through that." She sighed softly. "And… I'll be honest, Updraft. My first instinct at hearing who you were related to was fear. I worried that you might use what I told you against me."

Updraft frowned, optics hardening at that. "I won't lie… that hurts. But… I guess it's understandable. Your uncle didn't really like my father, did he?"

"No… and Starscream dumped both him and Skywarp and left them to die after the Battle of Autobot City. There's some very hard feelings there. But… but I think Thundercracker wouldn't have wanted you to suffer for that. He wouldn't have held that against you."

Updraft finally managed a smile. "I don't know if your uncle was really that noble, or if you're just saying that to make me feel better. But either way… thank you. That helps."

Glory smiled back. "And if any fliers give you a hard time for this – or any other reason – you tell me. I'm still Air Commander, and I like to think I can still put the fear of the Pit into them."

Knock Out chuckled, though it sounded a little forced to Glory's audials. "Oh, I don't doubt that, Air Commander. I'm grateful it's you in charge and not Stormrunner, to be honest. From the sound of it, she would have had us all on the first transport home if she had her way."

Glory sighed again. "She's Skywarp's creator. She… took his death hard."

Updraft's optics brightened. "And if Starscream ordered her son's body dumped, of course she'd hold a grudge."

"Yes… but that doesn't excuse her behavior," Glory replied. "And I promise you I'm going to have words with her about it. In the meantime… you two look after yourselves. You can comm me if you have any problems, or even stop by if you want. Just give us some warning so we can get Wildfire locked up."

"Will do." Updraft's smile was a little less forced now. "And you take care of yourself, Air Commander. For your family's sake."

Glory watched Updraft and Knock Out walk off before heading out to collect Swift, the red Seeker's words still resonating in her CPU. Look after herself… but there was so much else that demanded her attention, from her duties as Air Commander to the needs of her family to the ongoing mystery of her uncle. At least, with Updraft's situation handled for the moment, there was one less thing to worry about.

* * *

She had expected word of Updraft's identity to spread fast… but it still came as both a surprise and an annoyance when Blitzwing commed her in the middle of her visit to the Destron's temporary refuge in Helex. She had barely touched down in the public park and turned Swift loose to go join the Destron sparklings in their play when his furious voice had sounded over her radio.

 _Primus fraggit, we let that little traitor into our home!_

 _I'm having a great day, thank you for asking,_ Glory replied wryly, shifting to root mode. _I take it you heard the news?_

 _Astro filled me in while he was here dropping off another game for Swift._

 _Be sure to research it THOROUGHLY before you let her play it. We're not having a repeat of the_ Five Nights at Freddy's _fiasco. She still has nightmares._

 _That's not the point! We let her into our home! Around Swift! Probably casing the joint so she could plant a bomb or something!_

Glory sighed aloud, earning an odd look from Hellbat in the process. _Blitzwing, High Command questioned her thoroughly. She's not her father's child._

 _What's THAT supposed to mean?_

 _It means she doesn't claim Starscream as family, even if they share coding. And just because he's her creator doesn't mean she's going to take over where he left off._

 _Wanna bet? I bet that's why he built her in the first place – so if he ever took over the Decepticons for good, he'd have an heir to make sure his programming line STAYED in charge._

Truth be told, Glory suspected something along those lines as well. Why else would Starscream want a child? He certainly wasn't the nurturing type, and given how he'd treated her during her days on the _Nemesis_ the thought that he'd want a sparking of his own was simply laughable. It only made sense that he'd created updraft to ensure he had at least one being loyal to him, and an heir to take his place after his death. Being called to serve aboard the _Nemesis_ had delayed his plans to raise her, though… and coming back online to learn his laboratory had been destroyed, and Updraft presumed dead, would have scuttled them entirely.

 _Maybe that's why he couldn't stand to be around you,_ she thought. _You reminded him too much of the sparkling he thought he'd lost._ Was Starscream capable of feeling grief, she wondered, or was he too narcissistic? Certainly he must have been disappointed at the loss…

 _Glory, are you even listening to me?  
_

 _Yes I am, Blitzwing. And I'll tell you what I had to tell Stormrunner – Updraft is not dangerous. She's a valuable member of our forces, and she's to be treated as such. And if I hear you or your buddies are giving her a hard time for her parentage, then you're sleeping on the couch for the next vorn._

Blitzwing muttered something that didn't quite register over the comm. _Fine. But keep her away from Swift, you hear? I won't see her hurt._

Glory had to smile a bit at that. It was rather adorable seeing the rough, violent triple-changer be so protective of their sparkling. _Sweetspark, Swift has Wildfire. Nobody's hurting her without going through him first._

 _Just be careful. I trust you, but I don't trust HER._ And he cut the connection.

Glory sighed again. Poor Updraft. Even mechs who had barely met her were turning against her. At least Blitzwing wasn't in a position to interact with her on a daily basis… though she was going to have to do something to keep Stormrunner and the other fliers in check. She would not put up with Updraft being singled out for bullying or mistreatment over this mess.

She turned her attention back to Swift, who was in the process of climbing onto the back of the massive griffon-like creature that lay sprawled in the middle of the park. Emperor Deszaras was still grieving the loss of his conjux, but he had insisted on coming here to meet with Glory anyhow. He had immediately brightened upon seeing that she'd brought her daughter, though, and instantly shifted to his beast mode to entertain her and the Destron sparklings that now swarmed over his flanks and wings like scraplets.

Quietly she snapped a few image files for her own personal album. How could the Knights assume the Decepticons were all violent monsters if they saw scenes like this?

"Pathetic," Leozack muttered. "Our glorious leader abases himself by crawling around in the dirt with sparklings. Some of those aren't even Destron creations!"

"I think it makes him much more relatable," Glory countered, watching as Ricochet crept up to Deszaras and stared at him with undisguised awe. "That way mechs aren't afraid to come to him if they have an issue that needs addressed."

"Hmph." Leozack rolled his optics and folded his arms in front of his chestplate. "I think it's ridiculous. If I were the Emperor, I wouldn't lower myself to acts like this."

Glory regarded him warily. Those words were far more Starscream-like than anything that had ever fallen from Updraft's mouth. She'd have to alert Deszaras to this… though if he was anything like Megatron, he already knew and had his own ways of dealing with his lieutenant.

Ricochet reached up and rested a hand on the tip of Deszaras' hooked beak. The Destron leader flicked his audial receptors, then bent down and grasped the sparkling in his beak, earning a terrified squeal from Breakdown (just what were the Stunticons doing in Helex anyhow?). Ricochet shrieked in laughter as Deszaras flipped him into the air, then caught him again and set him delicately on his back.

"Again!" Ricochet demanded, clapping his hands. "Do it again!"

"Me next!" a pale-green Destron sparkling begged.

Glory laughed softly. "The children seem to be cheering your leader up, at least."

"Hmph," Leozack grunted. "It's temporary at best. Our leader hasn't stopped sulking since the Quints took his bondmate. I don't know what he saw in Esmeryl anyhow, but I don't understand why he doesn't just suck it up and move on."

Evidently Leozack had never gotten close enough to another mech or femme to realize just how badly losing a conjux endura could affect someone. "Give him time. He's still grieving. That's not a process you can rush."

Leozack looked like he wanted to say something scathing in response, but she was spared his retort by the arrival of one of her fliers – Sweep 4708. Despite the twinge she still felt at seeing a Sweep after Galvatron's revelation, she kept her expression neutral as he touched down at the edge of the park and jogged up to meet her.

"Commander." He saluted. "Lieutenant Leozack."

"At least someone here acknowledges I actually have a rank," Leozack grumbled.

Glory ignored the grouchy Destron for the moment. "Is something wrong, 4708?"

"Just a message," he replied. "The star-dragons have hatched. Healthy and strong."

Leozack gave the Sweep a baffled look, but Glory only nodded, relief flooding her spark. "Excellent. Keep me updated on their growth. I want to know the instant they start flying."

"Yes, ma'am." 4708 grinned, then took to the air again.

"What was THAT about?" Leozack demanded.

"Just some personal business," she replied, though in reality the message meant far more than something personal – it was a code, one that they had insisted be passed along by a messenger instead of via comm to lessen the chances of interception.

 _Steelwing's been recruited into the Knights. She's in position, and no one suspects she's an agent._

At least one thing was going right for the Decepticons at the moment. And with any luck, Steelwing could keep them updated on the Knights' numbers, leaders, and developing plans… and alert them in time to stop the next attack before lives were lost.

"I've seen that mech before," Leozack mused. "Or someone like him."

"There are a lot of Sweeps," Glory replied. "It can be tricky telling them apart if you don't know what to look for." At least she was able to identify most of them by sight now, even if there had been some embarrassing mix-ups in the early days.

"Not here," Leozack retorted. "Not on Cybertron. Elsewhere."

Glory whirled to face him, her spark pulsing harder in her chest. "Elsewhere?"

"That's what I said," he snapped. "How you can call yourself Air Commander when you can't even listen I haven't the foggiest…"

"When?" she demanded, ignoring the insult. "And where?"

Leozack snorted. "During our journey here, just after we evacuated Neo-Kaon. We put in on the nearest energy-bearing world to refuel and were chased off by the neutrals that lived there. One of them looked just like that fellow, only a slightly deeper shade of blue."

"What world?" Glory felt her wings trembling in mounting excitement, and with great effort she forced them to be still. "Tell me. There are dozens of neutral worlds out there!"

"Why are you suddenly interested in one Sweep?" Leozack demanded suspiciously.

"Tell me!"

He arched an optic ridge. "Beta Geode. Not sure why that matters to you…"

If he had anything else to say, she didn't hear it. Another Sweep, far from Cybertron… on the very neutral world where she had taken refuge years ago… could it be?

 _It has to be Scourge,_ she decided. _No other Sweeps have gone rogue, not that I know of. And if Scourge is alive and on Beta Geode… then just maybe I can talk to him. Talk to him, and find out if Thundercracker is still alive in some way._


	9. Disobedience

"Permission denied."

Glory clenched her jaw, struggling to maintain her composure. "Lord Shockwave, I've served you faithfully for five years now. I've done everything you asked, and never requested much time away from my duties. Surely you can give me a week's leave."

"Decacycle," Shockwave corrected, not looking up from the starmap he and Soundwave were studying. "Regardless of whatever time you spent on Earth, you will use proper Cybertronian terminology, at least in my presence."

She wanted to roll her optics at that, but it wouldn't help her case at all. "There's something personal I have to take care of. It shouldn't take long, and I'll be right back to my duties the moment I'm finished."

"Permission denied," Shockwave repeated. "The state of both the Decepticons and Cybertron as a whole are too precarious at this time. I cannot afford to have one of my officers absent on personal business."

She blew a heavy sigh from her vents. "Sir… it's only a decacycle. That's all I'm asking."

"You are indeed asking… and I am telling you no. This discussion is over."

Glory sighed again. Shockwave might not have Megatron's temper or his love of bizarre, overly complicated plans, but he was every bit as stubborn as the silver warlord had been. Perhaps more so, actually - while Megatron could occasionally be reasoned with, Shockwave would dig his heels in deeper the more one argued for him to change his mind. Or he would simply change the subject without warning and pretend it had never come up in the first place - which was exactly the tactic he used now.

"The latest intelligence we've received indicates the Quintesson attacks are originating from the Epsilon Quadrant," he noted, adjusting the holotable controls to zoom in on a cluster of star systems. "There are six star systems in this quadrant, containing a total of thirty-four planets and an undefined number of smaller satellites capable of supporting a Quintesson base."

"That still gives us a LOT of worlds and moons to search," Glory pointed out, figuring another opening to plead her case would arrive soon. "How do we narrow it down?"

"Scouts en route to Epsilon Quadrant," Soundwave replied. "Arrival at New Proximus system: forthcoming. Will watch quadrant for further activity."

"The situation is not ideal, but we will have to make it work," Shockwave added. "Our temporary base on New Proximus will alert us as soon as they identify which world or satellite the Quintessons are operating from. I want our troops ready to move out at a moment's notice."

"So the Autobots have given us the go-ahead to attack?" Glory asked, frowning. Surely she would have heard of such a decision.

Shockwave's optic flickered, and his headfins angled back just slightly in an "expression" she'd come to recognize as cagey. "The Autobots have not yet authorized a preemptive strike. But in the event that they do, we will be prepared. And if they do not… we will be prepared anyhow. We will not allow their foolishness to endanger all of Cybertron."

Her tanks clenched at the thought. "Can we really afford to have the Autobots angry with us right now, sir?"

His headfins flicked back further, shifting from cagey to annoyed. "Would you rather face the wrath of the Autobots… or a lifetime of slavery underneath the Quintessons? Because at the moment, those are our options."

She flinched but nodded. She hated that they were forced to choose between two bad options, but at least the Autobots could be reasoned with. The Quintessons, not so much.

"What about the Knights?" she asked. "Have we gotten any word from Steelwing?"

"Negative," Soundwave replied. "Star dragon message: last known communication."

Glory gripped the edge of the holotable tightly. "Do you think they recognized her and…"

"We will not jump to conclusions at this moment," Shockwave ordered. "I am familiar with Steelwing's modus operandi, and she requires time to fully insinuate herself into whatever group she's been sent to infiltrate. We will allow her another few days to send another message before we worry."

Glory nodded, though she couldn't help but fret. Steelwing was one of her closest friends and confidants, and she didn't want anything to happen to her. And though she had faith in the infiltrator's abilities, the thought of her being uncovered as a Decepticon agent amidst anti-Decepticon terrorists sent a chill up her spinal strut.

"Autobot Council emergency session: tomorrow," Soundwave noted. "Final decision to be made regarding Quintessons."

"Then we shall adjourn until after the Council session," Shockwave replied. "Soundwave, ensure your cassettes are in place to observe the session and report back the instant a decision is made. Glory, have your aerial forces ready to move out at a moment's notice. Whether or not the Autobots approve a preemptive strike, we must be ready."

Soundwave nodded… yet Glory thought she sensed a moment of hesitation in the cassette carrier. "As you command."

Glory watched the blue mech stride out, then turned back to Shockwave. "Sir…"

"My decision is final, Glory. Asking repeatedly will not change it."

"Sir… I'm fully aware that the situations with the Quintessons and the Knights are serious. But I promise that I'll make this as quick as possible. It's something very important-"

"More important than the safety of the Decepticons? Or of Cybertron as a whole?" Shockwave's optic blazed with anger. "Perhaps you don't fully grasp the severity of the situation, Air Commander, but the Quintessons mean to claim us as slaves. The Knights of Cybertron want us exiled from our homeworld or massacred. Whatever your personal issue is, I hardly doubt the consequences of postponing it are as dire as that."

She winced. "No, sir."

"Then it can wait until the crisis has passed. That is final." He glowered at her a moment longer, headfins twitching, then gestured toward the door. "You are dismissed."

Glory saluted, holding the gesture several moments longer than necessary, and turned to storm out of the room. She wasn't sure what irked her the most - the fact that he was so adamant about his decision or the fact that he was completely right. They were smack in the middle of the worst crisis they had faced since the days of Galvatron's reign, and could hardly be short an officer in the middle of all this. And it wasn't as if tracking down Scourge took priority over halting a Quintesson invasion or finding and breaking up the Knights.

But Shockwave's order galled her all the same. What if this crisis stretched on for years? What if, by the time she finally had the time to go to Beta Geode, Scourge had left the planet or been shut down? She was so close to getting some answers about her uncle's fate, and her commanding officer had just shot down her hopes.

 _It wouldn't be so bad if I were a rank-and-file soldier,_ she thought, stalking down the corridors of the base. _It'd be so much easier to just defy Shockwave and slip away to Beta Geode anyhow. But I'm a high officer - if I abandon my post, the punishments are a lot more serious._

Glory sighed deeply and paused at the doors to collect herself, rubbing her temples. She felt ready to explode from everything that had been piled onto her in the past several weeks. And to think she had assumed Updraft WANTED this job. At this point, she figured the red Seeker could fragging well have the job if she really wanted it.

She walked out the doors of the base and into a cacophony of angry voices - as if the universe had just set out to prove that no matter how bad things seemed, they could always get worse.

"Cybertron for Autobots!"

"Get off our planet, Decepticreeps!"

"'Cons go home! 'Cons go home!"

She had to reboot her optics to be sure of what she was seeing. A crowd of over a hundred Autobots were gathered before the Polyhex base, yelling and chanting, blue and yellow optics blazing with hatred. Several hoisted signs in the air bearing such charming slogans as WE REFUSE TO SHARE OUR WORLD WITH KILLERS and 'TIL ALL ARE GONE - NO MORE 'CONS, while others waved banners emblazoned with the Autobot sigil. The expressions they fixed on her were so venomous that it took all her willpower not to turn around and duck back inside the base.

A cluster of Decepticons were gathered outside the base entrance, watching the bedlam with various degrees of annoyance and worry. Even Soundwave looked anxious as he regarded the crowd - though given his telepathic abilities, he could probably feel the ugly mood of the gathered Autobots better than anyone else. She selected one more or less at random and addressed her.

"Windsheer," she demanded, "what's going on here?"

The blue-and-gold Seeker had been watching the gathered Autobots, wings twitching anxiously, but she quickly turned and saluted at Glory's question. "A protest, Air Commander. Apparently a bunch of Autobots decided to cross over to our hemisphere to show their displeasure at us actually living in our own city."

Glory grimaced. "You're telling me they went to all the trouble to get visas to cross the border and a permit to assemble just to yell at us?"

Windsheer shrugged. "Freedom of assembly, ma'am. And unless they start a riot or attack one of our own, we can't do a blasted thing." She watched a container of bright pink-violet paint arc through the air and smash against the giant Decepticon sigil on the base wall. "And apparently THAT doesn't count."

"Can't we at least arrest them for vandalism?" Glory demanded.

She shook her head. "Onslaught's order, ma'am. We're only to arrest them if they attempt or threaten physical violence. He says any action beyond that will just prove to them that we're the violent monsters they make us out to be."

Glory shook her head. "We can't even properly defend ourselves without being considered vicious? That's not right."

Windsheer rolled her optics. "I know, right? I'd almost prefer an outright attack by the Knights of Cybertron. At least we can defend ourselves against THAT without some Autobot senator getting his wiring in a knot."

"Don't bet on it," Glory retorted. "They'd probably find reason to complain about THAT too."

A line of security guards formed a barricade between the base and the gathering, keeping the protestors at bay. As Glory watched two Autobots - Springer and Sideswipe - stepped up to the barricade. The guards didn't so much as flinch as the two mechs leered right into their faces… and one recoiled only slightly when Springer spit a glob of oil right into his face.

"Hey!" Rumble shrieked from his perch on Soundwave's shoulder. "You can't do that!"

"Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?" Sideswipe retorted. "Shoot him? Beat him to scrap? We know you want to, Decepti-creep!"

"This is our planet too!" Vortex shouted back. "We got just as much right to be here as you! Maybe more, seeing as we actually shed oil to defend it!"

"You've shed plenty of oil on this world!" Springer growled. "Pity most of it was ours!"

"Enough of this!" Glory snapped, storming forward. "Springer, Sideswipe, back off right now!"

Springer glowered at her. "Oh, so the Air Commander's going to handle things herself, is she? Going to carve me up with those blades, are you? Gut me like you did Cyclonus when he got in your way?"

She bristled, wings angling high with fury. "What I did to Cyclonus was in self-defense. He would have killed me otherwise. And unless you come at me with murder in your optics, then no, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Yeah, like we really believe that," Sideswipe sneered. "All you 'Cons are the same - just looking for any excuse to take a piece out of an Autobot."

Glory raised an optic ridge. "And yet you didn't hesitate to beat the slag out of my uncle at every opportunity, did you?"

Sideswipe's optics flickered as he processed that. "Oh… slag, I keep forgetting you used to be that cute kid Ironhide pulled out of the ocean…"

Windsheer gave her Air Commander a baffled look. Glory fired off a quick _I'll explain later_ over the comm and turned back to Springer, who was still regarding her with a furious scowl.

"You might have our Prime fooled," he snapped. "You might have so many other Autobots fooled. But you won't fool us. Ultra Magnus is on to your antics, Air Commander, and I'll be fragged before YOUR kind take Cybertron from us!"

That just made Glory wonder if her suspicions regarding Ultra Magnus weren't true after all. But she didn't voice that aloud. "Take it up with Ultra Magnus, then. Until then, I suggest you take your friends and clear off. You're disrupting the peace."

"US disrupting the peace?!" a white carbot bellowed, but Glory had already turned to walk away, gesturing for the rest of the Decepticons to follow suit. They followed reluctantly, shooting nervous glances at the protest the entire time.

Soundwave fell into step beside Glory, silent for a few minutes as they made their way toward the train terminal. Glory knew either of them could have easily flown home, but she wasn't sure she could concentrate enough to stay in the air at this moment. She wasn't sure if Soundwave felt the same way, but she'd worked closely enough with him to realize that he wasn't nearly as stoic as everyone believed, and all this had to be taking a toll on him too.

They were boarding the train when Soundwave finally spoke. "Echo and Stardust say hello."

Glory smiled a little. At least they had some common ground there. "Swift says hello too. How is Stardust faring?"

"Stardust: recovering." Somehow his usual monotone softened at those words. "General mood: improving. Still suffers anxiety when separated from guardian."

"It's hard to blame him when he's lost two sets of parents already." She sighed deeply. "In all of this, I worry about the sparklings the most. I know how hard it is to lose your family to something violent… I don't want any of them going through it. Especially the ones who have already been orphaned once."

Soundwave nodded, but remained silent for the entire ride to the residential areas of Polyhex. Was he thinking of Echo and Stardust, she wondered, and who would take care of them should he be called off to war? Or worse, be captured by the Quintessons or killed in the fighting? As much as Glory hated to think of how devastated Swift would be should anything happen to her, at least she would still have Blitzwing to care for her. Soundwave didn't have that safeguard in place, and somehow she doubted the cassettes would be seen as capable guardians toward Echo and Stardust.

The train was closing in on Soundwave's stop when he finally spoke again: "Nature of personal business: requested."

"It's… it's private," she replied softly.

He regarded her for a long moment, then nodded once. "Thoughts focused on Thundercracker… and Scourge. Both mechanisms: connected."

She frowned. Part of her wanted to be annoyed that he had violated the privacy of her thoughts like that, but part of her felt an odd sense of relief that at least he wouldn't force her to talk about it. "It really doesn't matter. There are more important things to worry about." Her voice was bitter at those last words.

"This matter: important," Soundwave replied. "Important to you."

She hadn't expected Soundwave to be on her side in this matter… if that's how she was interpreting his comment. "It's not like I exactly have time to investigate it. An officer has duties… and Shockwave's not going to allow it."

A totally foreign sound emerged from Soundwave's vocalizer - a laugh. "Air Commander Glory: not known for caring about what is allowed."

And with that remark, he strode off the train, leaving a bewildered violet Seeker to wonder just what he was implying.

Blitzwing found Glory in Swift's room, sitting on the edge of her bed and gazing at the recharging sparkling. Wildfire was snuggled up to their daughter, but he'd stretched his neck out to rest his chin on Glory's lap, optics half-shuttered as she scratched him behind the audial receptors. A stab of jealousy filled him at that sight - the bodyguard just barely tolerated him, and wouldn't even let him touch him without snarling or snapping - but something about his bondmate's expression made him hold his vocalizer.

"Somethin' happen today, Glory?" he asked, frowning.

She glanced up, startled, then turned her attention back to Swift. "I just wanted to spend some time with her. She fell asleep in the middle of our book, but I didn't want to leave."

Blitzwing snorted and walked into the room, earning a soft growl from Wildfire. "You never did learn to lie convincingly, kid. Somethin' happened today. I can see it in your optics."

She sighed, her fingertips tracing up and down Wildfire's neck ridge, the one that imitated a real horse's mane. "I just… have a lot on my mind right now."

He sighed back and sat down near the bed on a squishy lump of vinyl - what Swindle had called a "beanbag chair" when he'd purchased it for Swift. "The Knights and the Quints, huh? Astro told me those five-faced bastards were back."

She nodded. "I shouldn't be talking about this, but… the attacks are getting worse, and closer to Cybertron. Shockwave feels it's only a matter of time before they attack our homeworld."

"Primus," he muttered. "The Knights picked a lousy time to attack, didn't they?"

"You can say that again." She patted Wildfire's muzzle. "Plus this recent news about Scourge… it's all a lot to deal with. Sometimes I really envy you, you know."

Blitzwing reached out and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "Quit, Glory. Step down. Let someone else be Air Commander. Thrust or Acid Storm or Stormrunner or even Updraft… okay, maybe not her, but someone! This job is killing you!"

She glared at him for the Updraft remark, but didn't press it. "I can't. I accepted this position, and I can't abandon it now."

"Glory… I can't keep watching you break down like this." He squeezed her hand. "You're important to the Decepticons, yes, but you're important to me and Swift too. If anything happened to you…" He couldn't bring himself to finish.

She didn't reply for a long moment, gaze fixed on Swift, watching her stir slightly in her recharge. A smile tugged at her lips, and for a moment she looked younger, more at peace… more like the femme he'd fallen in love with back among the neutrals. Now more than ever he wished his duties as Swift's caretaker didn't keep him trapped at home - he wanted to go with Glory wherever she went, fight her battles, snarl at anyone who treated her badly or tried to pile more onto her than she could handle.

 _If I'd known Optimus Prime was going to insist on making her Air Commander that day she went into that peace talk, I'd have followed her in and yanked her right out,_ he thought. _Maybe he considers it an honor, but fraggit, he should have known she was too young for it…_

"I may have to leave, Blitzwing."

His head jerked up at that. "What? Why? Are they launching an attack already?"

She shook her head. "I got a lead on where Scourge might be. I have to follow it."

Dread filled his tanks at that, and he squeezed her hand again, as if he could physically hold her to his side. "Don't. Glory, please… you don't even know Galvatron was telling the truth. You have no proof Scourge is Thundercracker."

"I won't _have_ proof unless I find him," she insisted. "Blitzwing… I have to do this."

"No, you don't," he countered. "Glory, Thundercracker is dead. He was killed at Autobot City years ago. Slaggit, you told me about that dream you had of him - how he spoke to you from beyond the Well. Isn't that proof enough?"

"It was a dream," she replied, optics flashing. "That's hardly proof, however much I wish it was. I have to know, Blitzwing… and this is the only way. I won't be gone long - I just need to get there, talk to him, and come back. And maybe I can convince him to return with me."

"Glory, don't do this!" His voice rose in agitation, and Wildfire's head shot up, audials pinning back as he snarled at Blitzwing. "Fraggit, down boy… but seriously, you can't do this. We need you here at home!"

If he'd hoped that would deter her from this crazy plot, he was mistaken. She set her jaw, optics blazing with emotion.

"I know you need me, Blitzwing. I know Swift needs me. I know the Decepticons, especially the Air Corps, need me. But Blitzwing… there are things I need too. I need to do this for me. I need to know if some part of my uncle is still alive or not. I need that closure. I've spent years missing Thundercracker… maybe this will help me finally put his spark to rest."

Blitzwing's grip tightened on her hand. He wanted to yell at her, to demand she not run off and abandon her family like this, to not be stupid. But the words wouldn't come. As much as he wanted to protest this insane idea of hers, to do everything in his power to keep her by his side, he didn't have the spark to do it. Because he knew she was right - she had given so much of herself to her family and to the Decepticon cause, but she needed this closure, this bit of rebellion, before she went crazy.

 _Primus, you're going soft, Blitz,_ he thought, and brought her hand up to his lip plates, kissing her fingers. "You better come back to us. Or I'm hunting you down myself."

Her expression softened. "I will… I promise."

"Don't promise. Just do it. I ain't losin' you. An' Swift ain't losin' another parent."

"You won't lose me." She reached out and stroked Swift's helm, then stood. "Blitzwing, I…"

"Just go," he ordered, clenching his jaw. "The sooner you get there, the sooner you get back. I'll tell her you had to go on a trip for your job."

She nodded, and she hugged him one last time. He patted her back, knowing if he embraced her now he'd be tempted not to let go, and watched as she walked out of the apartment. His spark roiled with emotion - love, anger, worry, fear - and more than anything he wished there was a Quint or a Knight nearby he could vent his tangled emotions on. Fraggit, no one had ever told him love would be so blasted complicated.

Glory had knocked on the workshop door expecting Knock Out - she hadn't expected a massive green flier to open the door and stare down at her in confusion. She backpedaled a few steps, arm blades instinctively clicking within their sheaths. Was this the other Breakdown, then? She hadn't expected him to be so HUGE.

"Shop's closed," the mech told her, his voice surprisingly soft for such a titan. "Is there a message I can take?"

"I… I actually came to see Updraft," she replied, recovering quickly from her shock. "Is she here?"

"Just a moment." The mech ducked back inside the shop, surprisingly graceful for a flier the size of Skyfire. She caught a snatch of conversation, then Updraft appeared in the doorway, looking almost ridiculously tiny and frail in comparison.

"Air Commander… I mean, Glory." She frowned. "Are you all right? You look… frazzled."

"I am frazzled," Glory replied. "That's kind of why I'm here, actually." She craned her neck to peer into the shop. "Was that Breakdown?"

Updraft chuckled. "That's my older brother, Windjammer. Breakdown's a roller, blue, and not quite that huge. Sorry if he startled you - he kind of does that without meaning to."

"It's all right. I've never seen him before, though." A flier of THAT size would be impossible to miss among her forces.

"He's not a warrior," Updraft replied. "He works in the offices at the Polyhex base. Handling paperwork and such." She chuckled again at Glory's expression. "Believe me, he loves that job. It apparently drove Shockwave crazy that someone that big would want a non-combat role."

"Anything that doesn't fit exactly where it should in Shockwave's logical world drives him crazy," Glory noted. "Though that's not why I'm here."

Updraft stepped out of the shop and shut the door. "This sounds serious… is everything okay?"

Glory judged it best to avoid the question. "I'm leaving Cybertron for a few days. Maybe a week. I thought… maybe you'd like to come with me?"

Updraft frowned. "Where are you going?"

"A neutral colony on Beta Geode. There's someone there I have to talk to."

Updraft's optics flashed. "Scourge, right?"

She was bright, no doubt about it. Glory just wished Stormrunner could see that, and look past the flier's parentage. "I believe he's there. And I need to talk to him."

"Are you sure about this?" Updraft asked. "For all you know, this could be a dead end. Or even a trap."

"I know… but that's a risk I have to take. I need to know."

The red Seeker frowned. "Did Shockwave sign off on this?"

Glory didn't answer… but her silence was answer enough. Updraft sighed deeply and shook her head.

"This is stupid," Updraft muttered, "but I can't let you run off and get yourself killed on this adventure. I'll go with you. Just let me say goodbye to my family first."

"Updraft, I want you to come because you want to, not because you feel obligated to."

"I DO want to come." She gave a resigned smile. "I like you, Glory. You've always been kind and fair to me, and you stood up for me despite knowing who I was. The least I can do is pay you back by helping you with this little escapade. Besides, it'll be nice to get away for awhile. After Stormrunner broke the news about who my father was, things have been… rough."

Glory scowled. "If the fliers are giving you ANY trouble…"

"Most of them are civil enough… barely. Windsheer's trine is still friendly with me, and the rest of them don't do anything worse than glare at me when they think I'm not looking. But that doesn't stop other Decepticons from harassing me or my family." She nodded at Knock Out's shop, and Glory winced at the ugly hole in the window that had been roughly patched with a sheet of clear plastic. "Someone tossed a chunk of shrapnel through it this evening. There was a lovely note attached too, one that told me quite clearly where the 'spawn of Starscream' could go."

Glory clenched a fist. "You need to report this. We'll find who it is and-"

"Glory… it's not worth the fuss." Her wings twitched, a sure sign that this angered her more than she would admit, but she shook her head. "Dad was more upset about glass from the break scratching his finish, as always. But… I just need away from all this for awhile. To clear my CPU, and to protect one of the few mechs who's actually been kind to me since the news broke."

Glory bit her lip as she regarded the shattered window. She'd been so caught up in her own drama and the ongoing crisis that she hadn't thought much about Updraft's own predicament, and she felt guilty about that. Once they got back, she was going to do everything in her power to help the other femme… if she wasn't hauled before Shockwave for a court-martial first.

"I'll be right back," Updraft told her. "I just need to tell my family goodbye. How soon do you want to leave?"

"As soon as you're ready."

She nodded. "Then I'll hurry." And she ducked back into the shop.

Glory lifted her optics the sky, a thrill of hope and fear filling her spark. The lights of Cybertron drowned out any sign of the stars, but she fixed her gaze on a random spot anyhow, imagining that Beta Geode lay in that direction. There, she hoped, she would find answers… or at the very least some kind of closure.


	10. Bulldog

The silence hanging over the conference room was so tense it seemed the slightest movement would cause it to snap. Shockwave stood at the window, hand and gun-arm behind his back as he gazed at the Polyhex cityscape, not even a twitch of his headfins betraying his thoughts or emotions. Soundwave and Stormrunner watched him, neither daring to break the silence first. Even Rumble was quiet, refraining from his usual habit of filling any quiet moments with snarky commentary.

Shockwave was content to let the silence continue a moment longer, that he might better put his thoughts in order before speaking them aloud. As much as he had admired Lord Megatron, he had to acknowledge the mech had his faults, and chiefest among them was his habit of losing his temper whenever things became difficult. And Galvatron… well, THAT madmech's temper made Megatron look like a saint in comparison.

In the light of recent events, one might argue that Shockwave had every right to launch into a screaming tantrum. But he refused to sink to that level. Anger was a valuable tool if wielded correctly, but a destructive nuisance when given free reign. Better to let his fury cool until he could forge it into the weapon he needed to fight the crisis of the moment.

"Thank you, Soundwave, for your report," he said at last, and even he had to be impressed by how smooth and collected he managed to keep his voice. "It was quite informative, even if we wish that information were of a different nature."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Stormrunner demanded, her own voice crackling with frustration and anger. "The Autobot Council still refuses to do anything about the Quintesson crisis, we've lost contact with our agent among the Knights of Cybertron, and both our Air Commander AND Starscream's child have gone AWOL! Does none of this worry you?"

"Panic and fear will do us no good at the moment," Shockwave replied, turning to face the Communications Officer and the flight instructor. "And we have not lost contact with our agent among the Knights. It takes time for Steelwing to settle into a role, and we will give her the time she needs before we worry about her fate."

"What about the Quints an' the Autobots?" Rumble piped up, frowning from his perch on Soundwave's shoulder. "'Wait an' see' is all good an' well, but it ain't gonna do slag 'gainst the Quints. 'Specially since the Council voted against takin' action."

"Their decision is regrettable," Shockwave acknowledged. "But simply because the Autobot Council has decided it's too soon to declare war against the Quintessons doesn't mean we can't make preparations. The Quintessons WILL attack Cybertron - it's only a matter of time. And when that attack comes, we must be ready."

Soundwave nodded. "Decepticon forces: mobilizing. Will be ready."

Stormrunner nodded as well, though she still looked troubled. "That takes care of the Quintesson issue… but that still doesn't change the fact that two of our Seekers have abandoned their posts. And I don't like the fact that one of them is Updraft. Who's to say she didn't abduct the Air Commander for some devious purpose of her own?"

"Proof of abduction: lacking," Soundwave replied. "Spoke of leaving Cybertron for personal business. Most logical conclusion: Air Commander left to attend to said business without permission."

Shockwave felt his headfins twitch at Soundwave's words, but he forced them to hold still. After cycles of dedicated service from his Air Commander, he had expected far better out of her. She knew the state of affairs for the Decepticons and the planet, and still she had chosen to abandon her post for the sake of some silly fancy of her own. It was still very mild behavior compared to some of the antics Starscream had pulled as Megatron's Air Commander, but that didn't make it any less galling.

 _She is still very young,_ he reminded himself. _Just count yourself fortunate that she hasn't rebelled against your authority before now, and in a much more embarrassing fashion._ That thought helped, but not as much as it should have.

"I still say Updraft is involved," Stormrunner snapped. "The fact that she vanished at the same time can't be coincidence!"

"Updraft: not disposed toward treachery," Soundwave countered.

"Why are you leaping to her defense?" Stormrunner retorted.

Before Soundwave could answer, the conference room door opened, admitting Blitzwing. The triple-changer stalked into the room and glared at the three mechs present, as if he expected to be accused of something on the spot.

"Thank you for coming," Shockwave told him.

"Like I had a choice," Blitzwing growled. "You ordered me here. What do you want?"

"You are Air Commander Glory's conjux endura," Shockwave replied, ignoring the triple-changer's rudeness for the moment. "She has gone missing."

"You don't think I know that?" Blitzwing retorted. "Though I wouldn't say missing - she left last night. Even said her goodbyes. Not like she ran off in the night without tellin' someone."

"And you didn't see fit to notify your commander?" Stormrunner demanded, scowling.

"Who put YOU in charge?" Blitzwing snapped. "She left to take care of something! As far as I knew, she had Shockwave's okay on it!" His visor flickered as he looked Shockwave in the optic. "Wait… you're sayin' she didn't? Not like her to pull a runner like that."

"Indeed," Shockwave replied. "If you have any information on where she could have gone, share it with us. It's imperative that we track her down as soon as possible."

Blitzwing opened his mouth, then seemed to reconsider and shut it again. "What's gonna happen to her when she gets back?"

Shockwave was silent, processing the best possible answer to that question. He must have hesitated too long, however, because Blitzwing's jaw clenched, his stubby wings hitching higher with tension.

"She's in for a court-martial, ain't she?" he demanded.

"Not necessarily…" began Shockwave.

"I ain't sayin', then," Blitzwing retorted. "Not unless you can promise me she's not getting arrested for this."

"Blitzwing, her life could be in danger!" Stormrunner protested. "Especially since Updraft has gone missing as well! For all we know, that spawn of Starscream's could have abducted her, or could be trailing her hoping for an opportunity to kill her! If you care about your bondmate's safety, you'll tell us where she is!"

"I care," he replied. "And that's why I'm not sayin' where she went. If Updraft's really after her, then Glory can take care of herself - she handled Cyclonus just fine, she can handle a short Seeker. But if giving you her location is just going to launch a mech-hunt for a deserter… then no. I'm sayin' nothin'."

Shockwave vented deeply to cool his mounting frustration before replying. "You will disobey your commanding officer, then? Do you understand the consequences of such insubordination?"

Blitzwing just smirked. "Last I heard, I'd been pulled from active duty to take care of my daughter. So technically, you ain't my commanding officer at the moment. And if you wanna punish me for insubordination - an' leave Swift without a caretaker - then do it. I dare ya."

Shockwave had no optic shutters, but he dimmed his optic anyhow and focused on venting a few times before he said or did something rash. Well, Glory and Blitzwing shared at least one thing in common, then - they both knew exactly how to infuriate him without even trying. "You're dismissed, Blitzwing. Return to your daughter. And if anything should happen to Glory due to your silence, let it be on your head."

Blitzwing snorted and stormed out.

Stormrunner glared after the triple-changer before sighing and rubbing the bridge of her olfactory sensor. "Primus, what DOES Glory see in that mech?"

Soundwave said nothing… but Shockwave decided he did not like the smug aura the cassette-carrier seemed to be exuding at that moment. Were all his officers and soldiers out to annoy him into insanity today?

* * *

It was a long flight from Cybertron to Beta Geode, and Glory was quietly grateful that Updraft had agreed to accompany her. She was confident in her own ability to defend herself, but felt much safer with another capable Seeker by her side - and though she had yet to see Updraft in action, if she fought half as well as she flew she'd be an asset in a scrape. And her presence made the journey far less lonely and dull, and helped her take her CPU off the inevitable confrontation at the end of said journey.

"What's Beta Geode like?" asked Updraft as they took off from the asteroid where they had taken a brief break to rest and refuel from their stores. "I grew up on Velocitron, but never saw any of the other colony worlds. Our family never traveled much."

"It's a beautiful world," Glory replied. "No organic life, but it's covered in crystals and colored stone, and there are plenty of silicon-based life forms. The only ones that gave us any trouble were the star-dragons… but they were fascinating in their own right."

"I've heard of star-dragons," Updraft replied. "Never saw one up close, though I've always wanted to. Are they dangerous?"

"I never had any trouble with them. They're dangerous when provoked, but if you mind yourself around them they're calm enough." She sent an image file she'd managed to save during her brief stay among the neutrals - the star-dragon family, with the little red hatchling she'd dubbed Wildfire wrestling with one of his nestmates.

"Oh my… they're beautiful." Updraft's voice brimmed with wonder. "Those alone will make this journey worth it."

Glory chuckled. "So what's Velocitron like? I've never been there."

"Oh… not terribly different from Cybertron, I suppose, except there are far fewer fliers. So much of the culture is focused on racing, though, and given that the only one in our family that does much racing is Knock Out… well, few of us really felt at home there. Which is why he insisted we move to Cybertron once we were sure it was safe for Decepticons again."

Glory winced. Knock Out had meant well, but his timing in moving his family had been lousy. Though it wasn't as if he could have known the Knights and Quintessons would start moving against Cybertron at the same time. At least he hadn't shown up with his conjux and sparklings in tow just in time for Unicron to descend on the planet…

"I can't imagine what it must have been like for you," Updraft said suddenly. "To be raised on a military base, by active soldiers. That's no place for a sparkling."

"It's not like I had a choice," Glory replied. "And neither did my uncle. It was either take me in or let me go to a foundling home or Shockwave's academy - and at the time that academy was little better than a boot camp. He did the best he could under the circumstances."

"I get that… but still, you were basically raised by active soldiers. That's not a good environment for any child."

"Megatron felt it was best for me to be raised by my closest living relative. And looking back, I can see that he bent over backwards to accommodate my presence in the base. He could have easily shipped me off to Shockwave or just forced me to upgrade early, but instead adjusted my uncle's duties so he could have time to raise me, and even arranged for me to have some kind of schooling aboard the _Nemesis._ Maybe circumstances weren't ideal… but we made the best of them." She didn't mention Megatron's attempt to upgrade her at one point, or her uncle's rebellion against it - it wouldn't help her argument at all.

"I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm criticizing your uncle," Updraft told her. "It does sound like he was trying his hardest to make the best out of the situation. I just wish the situation had been better for you."

"I was actually very happy on the _Nemesis,_ " Glory confessed. "I missed my parents, of course - I still miss them. And it could be frightening at times, especially when Megatron lost his temper or Starscream…" She hesitated.

"You can say it," Updraft assured her. "When Starscream was in one of his moods. I'm fully aware that my father was a narcissistic bully."

Glory relaxed a little. She hadn't been sure whether Updraft still harbored a little loyalty toward the mech whom she shared programming with - and while she was sure her feelings toward him were more complex than she wanted to admit, at least she wouldn't have to walk on flimsiplast shells regarding him.

"Still, I had a lot of friends on the _Nemesis,_ " she went on. "Rumble and Frenzy, Swindle, Skywarp, the Stunticons… they were like a giant extended family to me. Which is why I fought so hard to protect them when Galvatron was using his authority to abuse them. Family isn't always about who you share programming with."

"Oh, don't I know that," Updraft replied. "Though… doesn't it frustrate you that they basically pushed you into becoming a soldier?"

"I _wanted_ to become a soldier," Glory countered. "I wanted to fight alongside my friends and family, to protect them at all costs. Maybe that came from watching my parents die, maybe that came from seeing my uncle come back wounded from combat… but I knew I wanted to be able to fight to defend my family and my people. I wasn't exactly aiming to become Air Commander, but… somehow that happened."

Updraft snorted. "I still don't understand why they made someone so young Air Commander. No offense…"

"None taken."

"But there are far more experienced mechs out there who actually _want_ the job. Why someone barely out of upgrade, who never really wanted an officer position?"

Glory supposed she should have been insulted by Updraft's blunt assessment. But it was hard to be offended by something she'd often wondered over the years. "Optimus Prime insisted he be the one to approve of the new Decepticon Commander, and he'd only accept Shockwave as Commander if I had an officer position as well. I guess it was only logical that I get the Air Commander position - it's not like I'd make a decent Communications Officer."

"No, Soundwave probably has a lock on that position," Updraft admitted. "Still… I don't think much of Optimus Prime if he insists on pushing someone so young to be a military officer. I thought he was against making children into soldiers-"

"Updraft, I'm not a child," Glory insisted. "Maybe I grew up a little too early, but I'm past the age when most sparklings are upgraded by this point."

"Still, you should have had some time to live your own life," Updraft retorted. "To attend school of some kind, to spend time with mechs your own age, to decide for yourself what you wanted to be. To find yourself, not have it decided for you. And it angers me that you didn't get that chance. That it was taken from you."

Glory went silent, realizing that she'd never thought of that before. Her short life had been so chaotic, so dominated by the simple task of trying to survive in a galaxy torn by war, that she'd never considered that she had some kind of choice in her own destiny. Older mechs had constantly decided her fate for her - Megatron, Swindle, Optimus Prime, Shockwave, even her beloved uncle had all had their own ideas of what she should become. And while she had rebelled against some of those expectations, she had never really thought she'd had that much of a choice in her fate. That she could be something other than a soldier, than the Air Commander of the Decepticons.

 _Then again, it's not like I had much of an opportunity to be a carefree young adult after my upgrade,_ she thought bitterly. _It's not like Chaar exactly had a social scene._ Still, Chaar hadn't lasted forever, and there were plenty of younger Decepticons who had the chance to decide their own futures on Cybertron.

Updraft slid closer and nudged Glory's wing with her own. "I'm sorry. I'm honestly not trying to cause trouble. I just worry about you. Someone so young shouldn't have the weight of Cybertron AND a family on their shoulders."

"You're not the only one," Glory admitted. "Blitzwing flat-out asked me to step down from my post at one point - though I don't see how I can do that without causing chaos among the fliers."

"That's for Shockwave to worry about, not you," Updraft pointed out. "And Optimus Prime, given that it was his scrap-headed decision to put you in this position in the first place. He can't really be surprised that you're cracking under all this strain."

"I suppose not."

Updraft nudged her again. "Look… forget about it for now. You've got some time away from your duties, even if it's temporary. Just enjoy it, all right?"

"I'll try," Glory replied. She felt guilty for having abandoned her post and her family - and worse, for enjoying the break from them. But at the same time, she couldn't deny that it felt good to be able to spend a little time as she saw fit, even if it was to track down a wayward Sweep.

"So… enough of this serious talk," Updraft prompted. "Tell me a little about some of your honorary family. I've heard about your parents and your uncle…"

She was all too happy to shift topics, and spent the rest of the journey to Beta Geode regaling the red Seeker with tales about some of the epic pranks she and the cassettes had staged, and the impromptu races and brawls she'd joined with the Stunticons. Perhaps there wasn't a way for her to go back and revisit those days - far happier times, before the war had turned against the Decepticons and she'd been forced to grow up too fast - but sharing them helped her relive them a little. And that helped lighten her spark.

* * *

The neutral base on Beta Geode hadn't changed a bit in the five years since Shockwave and his Decepticons had retaken their sigils and launched their attack on Chaar. A rectangular gunmetal-gray building nestled amid the crystal spikes and columns that bristled from the planet's crust, it was a dull splotch on the colorful, glittering landscape. It was as if someone had uprooted a warehouse from one of Cybertron's industrial districts and plunked it down here without any regard as to whether it fit.

 _It fits Bulldog's style,_ Glory thought as she touched down a few kilometers from the base. _He was always a practical sort. Though ironically, this base would stand out less if it was a bit more ostentatious…_

"Primus," Updraft murmured, landing just beside Glory. "This place is gorgeous! Here I thought you were exaggerating!"

Glory chuckled. "The view's even better at sunrise and sunset. The light does amazing things when it hits the crystals." She gestured ahead to the base. "We go on foot from here. I didn't want us to land too close - they're leery of outsiders. We're better off letting their sentries come to us."

Updraft nodded, her wings flicking with an anxiety she wouldn't let reach her faceplates. "Are these neutrals dangerous?"

"They claim not to be," Glory replied. "But they chased off the Destrons when they tried to seek sanctuary here, and Deszaras is hardly a pushover. They're dedicated to protecting their home, but not aggressive enough to pick a fight."

"That's pretty much any Cybertronian, though," Updraft noted.

"Point," Glory conceded. "Just don't reach for your weapons and-"

The click of a safety sliding off killed the rest of her sentence, and both Seekers froze in their tracks.

"One move, 'Cons," came the snarl. "Just one move. I dare you."

Updraft didn't so much as twitch, though she fired off a comm to Glory - _I thought you said they weren't aggressive._

"Hello, Bulldog," Glory said as calmly as she could manage. "I didn't expect you to come out to meet us personally."

The brown tankformer stepped out from behind a chunk of opaque green-black crystal, rifle trained on the two Seekers. His unpatched optic narrowed as he scowled at them, and his pedes crunched against the pebbles and crystal shards that littered the ground. He gave Updraft a long, calculating look, then shifted both his attention and his weapon toward Glory.

"I warned you, kid," he grumbled. "If you came back, you were cuttin' off ties with us. You'd be greeted with the business end of a weapon if you came back."

"I seem to remember you telling me words to that effect," Glory noted. "Look, Bulldog sir, I don't want any trouble. I'm just here to look for someone."

"Everyone on this planet is under my protection!" Bulldog snapped. "We don't extradite anyone to either side, and we don't allow bounty hunters here either! You can turn around and go back to where you came from, or I'll fill your wings full of holes!"

"Over my dead chassis," Updraft growled, stepping forward to put herself between Glory and the neutral leader.

If Bulldog's optic narrowed any further he might as well just offline it. "Who the frag are you?"

She threw her shoulders back, visibly bracing herself for a terrible reaction. "Updraft of Velocitron."

"Never heard of you." He gestured with the muzzle of the rifle. "Are you with her, or just seeking sanctuary here?"

"I'm with Glory," she replied. "And even if I were seeking sanctuary here, seeing you greet my friend with a weapon would have had me fleeing immediately. Is this how you greet everyone wanting asylum with you?"

"We don't take kindly to turncoats here," Bulldog retorted. "Especially those who take half our defense forces with us when they run!"

"That was Shockwave's doing, not mine!" Glory retorted. "And we weren't just going to stay on this planet and let that mad-mech Galvatron wipe out innocent mechs in his stupidity!"

Bulldog barked out a laugh. "Since when were Decepticons innocents?"

"Says the former Decepticon general," Glory pointed out.

"And as a former Decepticon general, I know full well what Decepticons are capable of," Bulldog shot back. "There are decent ones, but too many come here asking for refuge, only to try to stab us in the back or steal from us, or both. And if Shockwave taught us anything while he was here, it's that very few 'Cons turn in their sigils unless they're plotting something."

"We're plotting nothing!" Glory insisted. "Like I told you, we're just looking for a mech! I need to talk to him!"

"No one comes all the way out here just to talk." Bulldog tightened his finger on the trigger. "You have until the count of three to activate your thrusters and clear outta here, you two. If you're not off the ground and on your way by then, you're dead."

Glory stepped back, thrusters already warming up and preparing to launch herself skyward. So close… to have come so close only to be turned away just short of their goal…

"Bulldog, sir!"

The tankformer's gun remained trained on Glory and Updraft, but he turned slightly toward the speaker. "Slaggit, I'm in the middle of something right now, Scourge!"

Glory's spark leaped as a deep blue form emerged from a stand of crystal spikes nearby. The curved bat-like wings, the black facial ornamentation that mimicked a human beard and mustache, the queerly-shaped helm, the stylized armor and bright pink claws…

"Hold your fire!" he shouted, running up to intercept the neutral leader. "That's the Decepticon Air Commander! You kill her, you'll bring an army to our doorstep!"

Bulldog's optic flashed, and he turned back to Glory. "Is this true?"

She wasn't sure whether to be grateful toward Scourge or irritated that he'd revealed her rank to the neutral commander, but she nodded anyhow. "Air Commander Glory. I was promoted to that position after the Battle of Chaar, shortly before Scourge defected."

Bulldog curled his lip but lowered the gun. "Should've said something right off the bat. Though what business does a fraggin' Air Commander have with a neutral colony?"

"She's told you twice now," Updraft snapped. "If you would actually listen instead of automatically assuming the worst out of everyone who wears a Decepticon symbol-"

"Enough!" Glory shouted, silencing the red Seeker. "That's enough. I didn't come here to pick a fight - I came to talk to Scourge."

The former Sweep commander started, optics flickering in surprise. "Me?"

Glory nodded… but everything she had wanted to ask, to say, died in her vocalizer. After coming all this way, facing down Bulldog's gun and risking so much, she finally faced the mech she had longed to speak to, but the words wouldn't come.

"Get inside the base," Bulldog said at last. "All three of you. As Air Commander, you're our guest for now - even if I trust you about as far as I can throw Trypticon. Whatever you have to say to Scourge, you can say it in there."

As the tankformer turned and headed toward the base, Scourge gave Glory a puzzled look. She searched his gaze for some flicker of something deeper - recognition, even warmth and affection - but he turned away and hurried after Bulldog before she could catch anything. Well… it was too early to tell anything at this stage. She'd wait until she had a chance to talk to him before she drew any conclusions.

 _Please remember,_ she thought. _Please, Uncle T… if there's any fragment of you in there, please remember…_


	11. Scourge

Glory assumed Bulldog would drag her, Updraft, and Scourge into his office as soon as they got into the base. But the tankformer instead herded Glory and Scourge into an empty room, putting his arm out to bar the way when Updraft made to follow them inside.

"You wanted to talk to him," he grumbled. "Fine. Do it now and get it over with. But I'm waiting outside, and if I hear anything that sounds suspicious, I'm coming in to split you up. Got it?"

"I'm not here to hurt him," Glory assured him. "But yes, you've made yourself perfectly clear."

Bulldog glowered, then walked out of the room. Updraft gave her a long look.

"I'll be fine," Glory assured her. "If anything happens I'll comm you, but I doubt that'll be necessary."

Updraft frowned, but nodded and stepped back, letting the door close… and leaving her alone with the mech she'd come so far to see. The mech who held the answers to her questions… if she could only ask them. At the moment they seemed lodged in her vocalizer.

Scourge folded his arms over his chest. "I know why you're here, Air Commander."

Glory's optics flickered. "You do?" Did he truly recognize her, then? Not just as the Seeker from Chaar, but as his niece?

"Yes, and the answer is no." She didn't even have time to react to that before he went on. "I'm not going back to Cybertron with you. I've found my place here, and I'm happier here than I ever was with the Decepticons of Chaar." He nodded sharply, a defiant gleam in his optics. "So I'm afraid you came all this way for nothing."

Glory actually smiled at that. Oddly, it pleased her to hear Scourge had found some measure of happiness here. While many had seen Scourge as just another lackey of Galvatron's, not much better than Cyclonus, the Sweeps had told her the truth after he'd fled Cybertron - that he'd suffered just as much abuse as the other Decepticons, and had actively plotted against Galvatron a time or two before the Battle of Chaar. And while she hadn't exactly been close to him - indeed, she and Scourge had outright ignored each other much of the time - she was glad he'd found a place he felt he belonged.

"What's the grin for?" he demanded.

"I'm not here to take you back against your will," she replied. "Like I said, I just wanted to talk. I had a few questions for you, and I was hoping you had answers."

Scourge frowned, his jagged-edged wings twitching in response. "I don't know anything useful, I swear! I've been out of the loop for cycles, I can't know anything useful to you."

"I think you're wrong," Glory replied. "But I'm not looking for military intelligence or anything of the sort. Please relax - you're so twitchy it's making ME nervous just looking at you!"

"I'm not twitchy," Scourge insisted, though his wings stilled. "What ARE you looking for anyhow? You and I never said two words to each other outside of normal duty before now."

Glory steeled herself, knowing her next words could provoke any number of reactions, few of them good. "Scourge… do you remember anything about your creation?"

His mouth dropped open in shock, then shut again. "That's a random question. But… to be honest, not a lot. I don't remember being a sparkling like you were, if that's what you're asking."

"Let me try again… what were your first memories?"

His optics dimmed out of focus as he thought on that. "Galvatron was there… Cyclonus too… and a number of Sweeps. We were in deep space, with a bunch of shrapnel and Unicron…" He flinched at the memory. "Sorry. Not a pleasant memory."

"I can imagine not." Though that did confirm one of Galvatron's more unpleasant claims - that Unicron had created him and his henchmechs. Why else would he feature so prominently in Scourge's first memories. "Anything before that?"

Scourge shook his head. "There's nothing before that."

Her spark sank into her tanks, but she pressed on anyhow. She hadn't come this far just to hit a dead end, to be told all her hopes were in vain. "You have to try… please. There has to be something more…"

"What are you getting at?" His optic shutters narrowed in suspicion. "There's something you're not telling me, Air Commander."

"Glory," she replied. "Just Glory." How much should she tell him? Would her words spark the latent memories to life, she wondered? Or would he just think she was crazy? Or crazier than he already thought her, at any rate - he probably thought she was a lunatic for flying all the way to Beta Geode just to ask him a few silly questions.

In the end, she decided to take the leap. "Do you know anything about a mech named Thundercracker?"

Scourge reached up to stroke the strip of metal mimicking a human beard as he thought. "You used to talk about him all the time. A member of your family… one that was killed at the Battle of Autobot City."

"My uncle," she confirmed, and her spark clenched slightly at the memory. "I was close to him… he was almost like a father to me. Losing him was just as bad, if not worse, than losing my parents."

He looked down at his feet, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. "Didn't exactly have creators I was fond of… not that I can remember, at least. So not sure I know how you feel. But… I'm sorry anyhow. Couldn't have been easy."

"It wasn't. But… I spoke with Galvatron some weeks back."

"Don't tell me that joker's back in charge!"

"He's in prison. Shockwave leads the Decepticons. Galvatron's awaiting execution but the Autobots are dragging their feet on actually getting it over with."

Scourge relaxed a touch. "Good. Hope they hurry up and terminate him before he loses his mind entirely. But what'd he tell you that has to do with me or your uncle?"

Glory braced herself, taking in a deep vent before speaking. "He says that you were forged from my uncle's remains."

His jaw dropped, and he backed up a step as if she'd just lashed out with her blades at him. "You're kidding."

She shook her head. "Those were his words. We have no way of confirming it, of course, but… I was hoping you would know for sure."

"Slag…" He rebooted his optics a few times, shaking his own head as if trying to dislodge what he'd just heard from his audials. "That's just insane. I mean, I had to be made from _something,_ mechs just don't appear out of thin air… but made out of another mech's dead body is… unbelievable." He gazed up at her, and guilt clouded his features. "No wonder you wanted to track me down."

"I never got to say goodbye to him," she confessed. "And Starscream abandoned him and anyone else who was badly injured in that battle out in space. We never even got a chance to lay them to rest. I… I suppose I just wanted some closure. To know what happened to him."

Scourge nodded slowly. "Well… here I am. Or here he is, however you want to think it." He spread his arms, looking down at himself. "I'm not dead, of course, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't take me back and entomb me yet."

Despite herself, she snorted out a laugh at that. "I won't. I promise." She braced herself for one more question. "Scourge… there's a chance Thundercracker was still alive when Unicron forged you. If that's the case… please. Is there anything at all you remember about him? Any sign that he could have lived on in you somehow?"

Scourge shook his head. "I'm sorry Air Co- Glory. I'm not your uncle risen out of his tomb or anything. I'm just Scourge. If you're looking for Thundercracker… he's not here."

* * *

The words were out of Updraft's mouth the moment Glory stepped out of the room: "It didn't go well."

Glory set her jaw firmly and walked toward the base's exit, waving Updraft after her. "It went perfectly well. I asked questions, I got answers. That's what I came for, isn't it?" The words came out far more clipped than she intended, but she didn't feel like taking them back now. She just wanted away from here as fast as possible.

"But you didn't get the answer you wanted," Updraft noted, striding after her.

"I got answers. That's all that matters."

"Glory, will you slow down and talk about this!" Updraft snapped. "You claimed to be an adult on the way here - act like it, for Primus' sake!"

Glory didn't stop until she'd left the base, and she pressed her hands against a column of deep blue crystal and leaned against it, trying to collect herself. Slag it all… she thought she'd prepared herself for this. She knew it was entirely possible - no, probable - that nothing remained of Thundercracker within Scourge's spark. She had told herself the whole way to be ready for disappointment. But she must have clung to hope more strongly than she realized… and learning the truth, that her uncle was well and truly gone, felt like a knife in her spark.

"Glory…" Updraft drew to a halt nearby, arm outstretched but not making contact yet. "Talk to me. What happened in there?"

She shuttered her optics, struggling to hold back her tears. "He's gone. Scourge… is just Scourge. Thundercracker died when he was created. He doesn't remember a thing about him."

Silence. Then a hand rested on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Glory. I know you were hoping…"

She shook her head. "It was stupid of me to hope. Thundercracker's been dead for years. Wishing otherwise was… childish."

"Not stupid, and not childish," Updraft assured her. "If something happened to my parents, I'd chase after any hope that they were still alive too."

Glory vented deeply, trying to rein her emotions in, tears streaming down her faceplate. Even now, years later, her grief at losing the last of her family remained, and this new hurt just served to reopen the old wounds. Not just the loss of her uncle, but Skywarp and her parents. Slag, even the loss of Megatron himself - he wasn't a member of her family, but she had looked up to him and respected him, and his death had been a blow as well.

Finally she trusted herself to not break down entirely, and she straightened up and wiped at her optics. "I'm… I'm okay. Mostly."

Updraft smiled sadly. "It's okay to not be okay. You know that."

"I do… but I'm functional at least." She glanced up at the sky. "We should get going. I'm in enough trouble with Shockwave as it is, and I'm sure your family's anxious for you to get back-"

"Wait!"

The two Seekers turned to see Scourge emerging from the base doors. The former Sweep commander hurried toward them, as if afraid they'd take to the air at any moment. And to be honest, just flying off at that moment was tempting… but Glory refrained.

"Scourge… I didn't properly thank you for answering my questions," she told him. "That was rude of me. I'm grateful to you."

"You're welcome," he replied. "But don't go yet."

"I don't think Bulldog wants us to stay," Updraft told him. "Being greeted with the business end of a gun isn't really an invitation to make yourself at home."

"That's just Bulldog being a cranky slagger," Scourge countered. "And you don't have to join up. Just… stay awhile. It's a long trip back."

Glory stared at him in disbelief. They'd just had their first civil conversation today, but that didn't exactly make them friends all of a sudden. Why was he suddenly so reluctant to see them go? She wouldn't let herself think that some latent memory of Thundercracker had finally surfaced - she had no desire to get her hopes up again just to see them come crashing down. Maybe he thought if they spent enough time here, they'd change their minds and turn in their Decepticon sigils like he had.

 _Or maybe he's just lonely,_ she thought with a stab of sympathy. It wasn't as if he'd had many friends before… but he'd come here knowing practically no one among the neutrals. And given Bulldog's ironic distrust of Decepticons in general, he probably had spent so much time and energy just trying to overcome that stigma that he hadn't had a chance to forge any real friendships. Perhaps, in light of all that, any familiar face from his past was welcome.

She said none of this aloud, only sighed. "I wish we could… but there's a lot going on back home, and as Air Commander I'm needed."

"Glory, if you go back, they're going to punish you for abandoning your post," Updraft pointed out. "Might as well make it worth it. Stay while and recover, and take a break from your duties for once."

"But-" she protested.

"Shockwave is perfectly capable of handling any possible crisis that pop up himself," she insisted. "And you need the break. If this pressure on you keeps up, you're going to crack under it."

Glory wanted to protest - there was so much going on back home, and she felt guilty being away from Polyhex and Blitzwing and Swift this long already. But she couldn't deny that Updraft had a point. And some part of her longed for a respite from the weight of the brewing conflict on Cybertron, however brief.

"One day," she said at last. "We'll rest here a day. Then we'll go back."

Scourge nodded, and Glory swore she saw his wings perk up. "I'll inform Bulldog you're going to be here a little longer then. He won't be happy about it, but I can talk some sense into him."

"Thank you, Scourge," she replied. "And… thank you for humoring my questions. I know it must have been strange having me grill you for information on a mech you never met."

He shrugged. "No less weird than some of the slag we went through under Galvatron. And it's not a problem. Just wish I could have been more help." He nodded at Updraft, then turned to go back into the base.

Updraft flashed Glory a little grin. "Well, now that that's taken care of… what's there to see around here? I know it's been a few years since you were here last, but I can't imagine this place changed all that much."

At that, Glory had to smile. "Ever seen a star dragon up close?"

"No… do I want to? Aren't they dangerous?"

"Not if you're quiet. Though if you're not up to the challenge…"

"Frag yes, I'm up to the challenge." She smirked. "Lead the way."

Glory chuckled and took to the air, leading Updraft in the direction of the star dragon nests. If she was going to face consequences for this venture, then she might as well make it worth it.

* * *

"Daddy, Soundwave's here!"

Blitzwing snarled and tossed the controller across the room, bouncing it off the viewscreen. Primus fraggit, he'd already told Decepticon Command that he wasn't telling them where Glory had gone. Were they going to keep hounding him until he spilled? Maybe sic Vortex on him? Or was Soundwave here to use less physical means of prying the info out of him? He had always wondered why the Communications Officer didn't get involved in more interrogations - he WAS a telepath…

Then he heard Echo and Stardust's voices, and he forced himself to relax a little. Soundwave wasn't here to wring Glory's location out of him. He was just here to pick up his kids from their playdate.

 _You're getting paranoid,_ he grumbled, leaving his character to die a gory death onscreen as he abandoned his game and headed to the entryway to greet the cassette carrier. _Jumpin' at everything, expecting to get arrested any moment. They wouldn't dare though, right? Not when Swift needs a caretaker…_

Soundwave didn't stand in the apartment's entryway - he crouched down, arms extended to let Echo and Stardust run into them. Both sparklings clung tightly to him, Echo giggling and Stardust tucking his face into his neck as if trying to burrow into his chassis. The mask and visor hid Soundwave's expression, but a soft chuckle emerged from his vocalizer and made Blitzwing freeze in his tracks. He'd never seen the blue mech exhibit THIS much emotion before - slag, he hadn't realized he could feel that much emotion.

 _Have kids really softened us all up that much?_ he wondered.

"You boys have a good time?" asked Frenzy.

"Yeah!" Echo replied. "We played games, an' watched a show, an' Blitzwing showed us a game that I'm not supposed to tell you the title of…"

Soundwave gave Blitzwing a look that could have frozen nitrogen even through the mask.

"...an' we painted Wildfire," Stardust chimed in, speaking up at last.

"Painted Wildfire…" Frenzy repeated, then burst out laughing as the horseformer trotted up to give Soundwave an intent sniffing. The kids had evidently been hard at work while Blitzwing had been distracted by a gaming session, and was covered from nose to tail with vibrant zebra stripes of yellow and violet. If he was at all aware of his garish paint job, he gave no sign.

"Sounds like you had a blast," Rumble noted with a grin. "An' hey Swift! We ain't hung out with you in ages! We've missed you!"

Swift bent down and hugged the cassette. "You guys used to come over all the time. I miss you!"

"The boss keeps us all pretty busy nowadays," Frenzy admitted, opening his arms for a hug as well. "But next time we get a spare minute, we'll pop over an' hang out, all right? If that's okay with your parents."

Blitzwing's first reaction was to say no - maybe even "frag, no." The cassettes were bad influences, and he didn't want them teaching Swift to spy and prank. But the pleading look Swift gave him made him relent.

"Fine with me. Just don't teach her anything bad."

"What, us? Teach sweet Swift something bad? You wound us, Blitz!" Rumble gave the triple-changer his best innocent expression, which was spoiled by a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Soundwave released the boys and stood. "Rumble, Frenzy, take Echo and Stardust to lobby. Discussion with Blitzwing: required."

"Can I go with them?" asked Swift. "To say goodbye?"

Soundwave nodded. "Acceptable."

Swift hurried out after the cassettes and sparklings. Wildfire trotted after her, leaving colorful hoofprints and drips of paint in his wake. Blitzwing grimaced. If he got out from under Soundwave's scrutiny in one piece, he was going to have to clean up after the bodyguard.

"Blitzwing," Soundwave intoned.

"I still ain't tellin' where she's gone," Blitzwing snapped. "If you think I'm going to turn her over to you for punishment, you're a fraggin' idiot!"

Soundwave didn't so much as flinch at the insult. "Location of Glory: already known."

Blitzwing jerked, his tanks jolting as if he'd just taken a blow to the abdominal plate. High Command had caught her… or they'd somehow managed to track her… or slag, Soundwave had already read his mind and used what he'd learned to betray her…

"Source of information: Glory herself," Soundwave went on. "Air Commander: not skilled at concealing thoughts and emotions."

That was the truth - Glory had never been shy about expressing herself. "So you know… what about Shockwave?"

"Shockwave: not aware of where Air Commander has gone."

He relaxed just a little… but not much. "When're you gonna get around to tellin' him? Or have you already sent a squad out to arrest her?"

Soundwave shook his head. "No. On both counts."

"...wait, what?" Disloyalty from Soundwave himself? This was new. "Why?"

"Air Commander Glory has served the Decepticons faithfully," Soundwave explained, his usual terse and clipped way of speaking fading the longer he spoke. "Has given her all to the cause. Deserves the chance to seek out what she looks for, even if Shockwave says otherwise. I will not betray her location."

Relief swept through him… though the tension in his internals didn't relax entirely. "She's still in for it when she gets back, though. Shocks isn't gonna let her get away without punishing her."

Soundwave nodded. "Orders: disobeyed. There will be consequences. Will do my part to ensure they aren't severe." And with that, he turned to leave.

"Hang on," Blitzwing demanded. "I got one more question for you."

Soundwave turned to regard Blitzwing over one shoulder.

"Steelwing got sent out on some kind of mission… you heard from her yet?" He was fully expecting Soundwave to tell him it was classified information, but fraggit, the infiltrator was one of his few friends, and he'd be slagged if he lost anyone else right now.

Soundwave pondered the question a moment, mulling over what information could be shared and what had to be concealed. "Communication with Steelwing: re-established. Intelligence being gathered. All other information: classified."

Blitzwing nodded, feeling himself relax just a little more. "All I wanted to know anyhow. Go get your kids and go home."

Soundwave nodded, not really expecting thanks from the triple-changer anyhow. He walked out, stepping to one side to let Swift and Wildfire re-enter the apartment.

"What'd Soundwave wanna talk about, Daddy?" Swift asked.

"Just grown-up stuff," Blitzwing replied. No sense making the kid worry, not right now anyhow. "Go hit the washracks. Take your overgrown My Little Pony with ya, he needs a good scrubbing."

"But he looks so pretty right now!" Swift insisted, patting him on the flank - though the paint was still tacky and the gesture just muddled the stripes. "He wants to be pretty! Can't he stay like this awhile?"

 _I don't think "pretty" is a word in that dumb lug's vocabulary,_ Blitzwing thought with a bit of an internal smirk. Aloud he said "For tonight. But he gets a bath in the morning. And keep him off the furniture 'til the paint dries."

Swift nodded. "Daddy… when's Mama gonna come home?"

Blitzwing opened his mouth to answer, then shut it when he realized he didn't have an answer for her. Truth be told, he'd expected her back by now - either giving up on the search for Scourge or finding him only to learn that he wasn't the mech she was looking for. He wouldn't let himself panic yet, but he couldn't help but wonder if something happened to her along the way…

"Daddy?"

"I dunno, Swift," he said at last. "But hopefully soon."

She accepted that answer and wandered off, her bodyguard at her heels. Blitzwing watched her vanish into the washracks before heading back to the viewscreen for another stab at _Doom._ Slaughtering digital monsters wasn't exactly the same as venting his frustration and anger on a physical target, but it helped to some degree.

* * *

Swift couldn't sleep.

Usually after a day spent in the company of the other sparklings she was tuckered out enough to drop into recharge soon after laying down. And even if she wasn't too tired, Wildfire's even venting was enough to lull her offline… even if his occasional bout of snoring woke her right back up. Tonight, though, she couldn't seem to doze off. Not even the familiar warmth of the horseformer curled up next to her or the comforting softness of Dragon helped her relax enough to sleep.

The adults seemed to think they were good at keeping things from the sparklings… or that kids were just too oblivious to pay attention to what was going on around them. But they caught on to the adults' worries and fears well enough, and even if they couldn't understand the details, they understood enough to know that something frightening was looming on the horizon. And the things they did understand - adults getting hurt and even dying, shadowy mechs making frightening speeches on the broadcasts, Shockwave and his officers holding almost-nightly meetings to discuss important matters - were enough to unsettle them.

Swift knew there was more going on than she could understand, but she knew that it was stressing her parents out. And she couldn't help but wonder if Mom being gone for the past few days didn't have something to do with it all. Had she been sent off on a secret mission to stop whatever was happening? Or had she gotten hurt and no one wanted to tell her? She didn't want to think that, not now, but after Stardust's father had never come home, she couldn't help but worry…

A yellow-and-violet-painted muzzle nosed her, and Wildfire huffed in her audial.

"I can't sleep," she murmured, patting his nose. "I guess you can't either, huh?"

Wildfire snorted. "Swift safe. Wildfire make sure."

Swift hugged him around the neck. "I know… you're a good boy." She tucked her face against his neck a moment, just taking comfort in his presence, before wriggling off the berth. "C'mon."

Wildfire nickered and cocked his head. "Where Swift going?"

"I'm gonna get a snack," she replied. "Maybe that'll help me recharge."

"Wildfire go too," the horseformer insisted. "Go with Swift."

Swift wanted to protest - she was just going to the dining area, not out of the apartment - but she kept quiet and let the drone trail after her. If Wildfire was intent on doing something - whether it was following the sparklings around or nosing apart a fight or going berserk on a perceived target - there wasn't much that could dissuade him from that.

Daddy was still in the living room, the viewscreen flickering, and she almost retreated back into her bedroom. But a loud snore ripped through the silence, and she realized he'd fallen asleep in front of his game. She tiptoed past him, Wildfire slinking along behind.

She had just opened a cabinet and started quietly poking around for her favorite energon candies when the apartment door slid open. She froze, turning toward the entryway. Was Mama home already? No, she would have announced her presence, not slipped quietly inside like this figure did. And it wasn't sleek and winged like Mama, but short and bulky…

"Get the kid," a second figure ordered, blue optics fixing on her. "We'll take the triple-changer."

"On it." The short mech took a step in her direction, hands raised. "Don't scream, kid, and we can do this painlessly…"

Swift screamed anyhow, dropping the candies at her feet. As if that were the signal he'd been waiting for Wildfire let out a scream of his own, and he leaped toward the mech menacing her. He swore, lifting a gun, but the drone slammed into his chest and knocked him to the ground.

"Swift!" That was Daddy, his voice blurred with sleep but still frantic.

"Daddy!"

"Swift, hold on-" His sentence was cut off by the CRACK of a weapon, and the impact of fists on metal rang through the apartment.

She wanted to bolt, to escape the apartment and run for help, but Wildfire and her attacker blocked her path. Instead she backed into the cabinet she'd been raiding and shut the door, peering out through the crack. Her entire frame shook as Wildfire transformed to his robot mode, scimitar drawn, slashing at the intruder beneath him…

Energon sprayed across the floor, and she gasped and shut the door the rest of the way. She huddled there in the darkness, whimpering, as curses and the sounds of two brutal struggles rang through the night.


	12. Memories

Blitzwing jerked back online, visor flaring, a roar of rage and fear ripping out of his vocalizer. His CPU scrambled to process and make sense of his surroundings even as his chassis lunged forward, fists clenched out of pure instinct. His home - his _family -_ were under attack, and he was going to tear those fraggers apart limb from limb…

Chains brought him up short with a resounding clang. He roared again and yanked with all his strength, struggling to snap his bonds. Where the frag was he? The last thing he remembered was being woken up by Swift's screams, a strange silhouette looming over his chair, blows raining down on his chassis before an energy weapon went off…

"The Con's awake!" someone shouted.

"Ya think?" another voice retorted. "Go get the boss. He'll decide what we do with him."

Blitzwing finally hung limp in his bonds, snarling with every vent, his wrists stinging from where the chains had bit into the wiring. He glared at his surroundings, trying to get his bearings. The dim light allowed him only a vague look at the room, but he could make out rusted walls, battered crates stacked haphazardly about, and scraps of metal and empty energon cubes littering the polycrete floor. Thick chains bound his wrists and ankles to the wall, and more chains crisscrossed his chest and torso. Other chains hung limp against the wall, as if whoever had snatched him was expecting more prisoners… or had other prisoners at one time and had disposed of them earlier.

His visor finally came to rest on two mechs seated on crates in the middle of the room, both glowering at him as they hunched over weapons. He couldn't make out details, but one appeared to be tall and gangly while the other was shorter and more heavily armored. And while the light was too dim to see their sigils, their blue optics betrayed their identity.

 _Autobots… it's gotta be the Knights of Cybertron._ That knowledge should have terrified him, but he only felt a white-hot anger that deepened with every passing moment. They had the bolts to come into HIS home, to attack him when he'd done nothing to provoke them, to terrorize his daughter and…

 _Swift._ His gaze broke away from the guards to quickly scan the room. Swift was all right. She had to be - her murderous bodyguard wouldn't have allowed these so-called Knights to lay a digit on her. But Wildfire, as vicious as he was, was just one mech… and these terrorists had clearly expected to get their hands on her, judging by the smaller set of chains fastened to the wall…

"Uncomfortable, Con?" the shorter mech demanded. "Well, you're _bound_ to be." He gave an obnoxious snigger, earning a sigh from his taller comrade.

"Is this really the time for stupid jokes?"

"C'mon, we've gotta keep ourselves entertained somehow in this dump," Short retorted. "I thought joining the Knights would be more exciting than this."

"If you're just in this for the excitement, you're in for the wrong reasons," Tall grumbled. "This is a mission to save Cybertron, not a cheap thrill."

"Can't it be both?" His gaze moved back to Blitzwing, and he smirked. "Whassa matter, Con, electrocat got your vocalizer? Thought you'd be more sassy than this."

"I'll give you sassy, you worthless hunk of scrap," Blitzwing snarled.

"That's more like it," Short grinned. "See, told you it was a good thing they came back with the triple-changer instead of the sparkling. We actually get some attitude, not just a scared kid."

Blitzwing snarled again, his chains rattling as she shifted as close as his bonds would allow. "Where is she? What've you done to her?"

Short opened his mouth to speak, but Tall rested a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "Wouldn't you like to know, Blitzwing."

"Where is she?" he demanded. "If any of you have put so much as a scratch on her, I swear to Primus-"

"You'll what, rattle your chains?" Tall snorted in disgust. "You know how many Autobots have lost sparklings in this war? How many of them spent hours, days, even planetary cycles in agony, not knowing whether their children were alive or dead? You've inflicted plenty of that kind of suffering over the vorns - learn to live with it yourself."

Blitzwing lunged again, pulling the chains taut, horror and fury warring within his spark. "You slaggers! She's just a kid! If you've got her, just let her go! She doesn't deserve any of this!"

Tall regarded him through narrowed optics. "And Autobot sparklings deserved it? Or are your kind's sparklings just that special-"

A door at the far side of the room opened, and a tall, bulky figure stepped into the room. Both guards shot to their feet, and Blitzwing realized this must be the "boss" they'd spoken of earlier.

"So… the infamous Blitzwing," the newcomer rumbled, his voice deepened and distorted by some kind of modulator. "One of the first successes of Megatron's triple-changer project… and one of his most brutal warriors. Your name bears the oil-stains of countless mechs - stains that can never be washed away."

Blitzwing curled his lip plates. "Frag you. How much oil you got on YOUR hands, slagger?"

The leader of the Knights of Cybertron cocked his head to one side, then strode closer. Masked and crested-helmed, he had the broad chest and shoulders and heavy limb armor of a truckformer, though he seemed to lack wheels of any sort. And as he approached Blitzwing realized that Knock Out and Steelwing had been right - he moved with a curious awkwardness, as if he were wearing an outer shell and doing his best not to jar it out of place. Whoever this mech was, he was doing his best to disguise himself - and look as intimidating as possible in the process.

"You talk with an awful lot of confidence for a prisoner of war," he growled.

"What war?" Blitzwing retorted. "The war ended five years ago!"

"Perhaps treaties were signed… but for many of us, the war rages on." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Cybertron was once a world of peace and prosperity, ruled by a benevolent Senate and prospering in a Golden Age. And you know who shattered that golden era forever?"

"Corrupt senators and an oppressive caste system?"

The leader's optics rebooted. "Hmm… someone's read _Towards Peace._ I never expected to hear YOU quote it."

Blitzwing was surprised to hear those words come out of his own vocalizer, to be honest - he'd never really cared about how the war started, to be honest. But one couldn't be bonded to a high officer without picking up a few things, he supposed.

"But no… it was the Decepticons who nearly destroyed our planet with their thirst for fuel, the Decepticons who shattered the peace. Time and again your kind have proven violent and treacherous, incapable of being trusted. And though our leaders may claim that a truce is in place, the Knights of Cybertron believe that true peace can only be achieved when your kind has been driven from the planet… or eradicated entirely."

Blitzwing knew he should come up with some kind of clever retort to that, or just insist that the Knights were no better than the Decepticons by that logic. But he could only manage two words - "Where's Swift?"

The leader chuckled again. "Ah… the little one. So young… young enough for us to undo the damage your kind have wrought on her. To be re-educated."

The fury building in Blitzwing's chest blazed to an inferno, threatening to consume him. The chains jerked tight as he surged toward the Knights' leader, bellowing his rage, wanting only to rip the mech limb from limb. A cable in his wrist tore and sent fire streaking through his sensory net, but he ignored the pain and continued to fight the chains.

"Your kind really are monsters," the leader muttered. "Unfortunate that the Air Commander wasn't present - but perhaps she'll come forward when she learns we have her family prisoner. And perhaps we can negotiate a trade… an exchange of prisoners, as it were."

"I thought we weren't gonna let him go, boss," Short protested.

"Given the right incentive, we will," the leader replied. "What would be the greater blow to the Decepticons, after all - knowing we captured a random soldier, however infamous, or knowing we have their Air Commander prisoner?"

Blitzwing sagged against his chains, exhausted but still shuddering with rage. "You touch Glory OR Swift, and so help me you'll live just long enough to regret it."

"You'll find we have no regrets, Blitzwing," he chuckled. "Not when it comes to saving our planet from your vicious ways."

The door opened again, and a chevroned head peered into the room. "Payload, Hitch, guard change… um, am I interrupting something?"

The leader shook his head. "We're done here. Come take your position, Streetstar. Enjoy your stay here, Blitzwing." And he strode out of the room, Tall and Short - or Payload and Hitch - trailing after him.

Blitzwing didn't raise his head, but he muttered a string of curses as the new guard stepped forward. He had to get out of here… he had to find Swift, had to break out of whatever hidden base the Knights had dragged him to and warn the Decepticons…

"You look worse for the wear, Blitz."

His head jerked up. He knew that voice…

The new guard was a Praxian femme, deep blue with jet-black markings and a metallic gold chevron. She met his optics, then reached up and tapped her temple, letting them flare briefly crimson before fading back to blue.

"St-" he began.

Steelwing shushed him with a gesture. "I just wanted to let you know that the kid's not here. The team that grabbed you came back without her… and short a member. The boss, whoever he is, wasn't too happy with that."

Relief swept through him, cooling his rage slightly. Swift was safe… he just hoped that, wherever she was, someone was looking after her well.

"Get me out of here," he whispered. "Just undo the chains. I'll get us both outta here."

She shook her head. "Much as I'd love to, I've worked too hard to establish my cover here to have it blown now. I still don't know who that mech is under all those mods, and I'm not leaving here until I have the answers that'll blow this entire operation sky-high. Just hold tight until then, okay?"

"But-"

Steelwing stiffened as the door opened, admitting another guard. She tapped her lip plates with a finger before turning away to address her "comrade."

Blitzwing tugged again at his chains, hissing as the torn cable flared in pain again. Knowing that both Swift and Steelwing were okay was some comfort, even if Steelwing was going to be no help in his situation. But that wasn't going to stop him from fighting his way out of here… and if he had to take out as many of the Knights of Cybertron in the process, so much the better.

* * *

Swift huddled on the bench in the medical center, curled up around Dragon and hugging the plush toy tightly to her chest. She hadn't spoken a word since the attack - not to the Seekers who had pulled her out of the cabinet, not to the medics who had checked her for injuries, not even to Uncle Swindle or Astrotrain when they had burst into the medical center, frantic with worry. Even Shockwave had been met with only terrified silence when he had tried to question her about the attack.

"She's gotta talk sooner or later," she heard Swindle insist as the adults clustered together close by to discuss her fate. "I mean, she's always been a little shy, but she's a tough little scraplet. She'll pull through this."

"How can you say that?" demanded Windsheer, one of the Seekers who had stunned Wildfire and retrieved her from the apartment. "The poor thing just went through a terrorist attack! And probably watched her father get abducted! How do you just 'pull through' that?!"

"Where's the mech who tried to take her?" Astrotrain snarled. "When I'm through with that piece of scum, he'll be spitting out chunks of his own scrap for a quatrex!"

"Wildfire already beat you to that," Swindle told him. "We gonna question him? Decide if this was a Knight attack or some other upstart?"

"There wasn't that much left of him to question," Windsheer replied with a shudder. "Primus below, what a mess."

At the mention of Wildfire Swift's gaze moved from the adults to her bodyguard. The horseformer crouched at her feet, optics fixed on her. He rumbled softly and stretched his neck out to nuzzle her, but she pulled away with a whimper. He jerked back with a whine, ears pinned back and offering her as hurt a look as he could manage.

Part of Swift wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and assure him everything was okay… but the memory of him tackling the intruder and carving his chassis open still haunted her. She had always known that Wildfire's job was to protect her, but she'd never really let herself think about what that meant. He'd never done more than growl and snap at adults he found suspicious before… and knowing he was capable of doing far worse was horrifying.

"This wasn't a random attack," Swindle insisted. "This was calculated. Attacking the Air Commander's family… it's gotta be the Knights. They'll probably go after the other officers next."

"They already have," Shockwave replied. "My guards apprehended intruders at my own residence late in the night. Fortunately I was not present at the time, and the intruders were captured and are awaiting questioning. Soundwave reported a similar attack at his own apartment, but his cassettes successfully repelled it."

"They WERE targeting officers!" Windsheer burst out. "They're not just content with random targets anymore - they're moving right to assassination!"

"Or attempting it, at the very least," Shockwave replied. "We shall heighten our security measures. I recommend all officers, not just high command, stay at the Decepticon base in Polyhex for the time being. That includes combiner teams."

"What about Blitzwing?" Astrotrain demanded. "Any sign of him?"

"He was missing," Windsheer reported in a grave voice. "Lots of signs of a struggle, though. From the look of things, they abducted him… but he put up a hell of a fight in the meantime."

Astrotrain snorted. "They wouldn't have taken ME. Blitz just got too soft is all…"

"Don't start that," Swindle groaned. "And have a little respect. That's Swift's father you're talking about, and she's right over there…"

Swift clung tighter to Dragon, doing her best to tune the adults out. She didn't want to hear any more of this. She just wanted to go home. She wanted her parents. She wanted this nightmare to be over, to wake up and find out it had all been a terrible dream...

Wildfire leaned forward again, nudging the tip of his muzzle against her foot. "Swift hurt?"

She whimpered and buried her face in Dragon's wings, feeling utterly lost and bereft. Mama was gone, Daddy was gone, her protector was a monster… was there nothing anymore she could cling to? Was she alone?

"Swift hurt?" he repeated, nudging her again. "Wildfire protect Swift. But Swift hurt anyhow?"

She shook her head, pulling her foot away. She couldn't look at him anymore, not without remembering energon splashing against the floor, a blade arcing through the air, screams of anger and pain and fear…

Wildfire pulled himself onto the bench beside her with a grunt of effort, and she felt the familiar weight of his chin resting on her shoulder. "Not hurt Swift. Never hurt Swift."

Swift finally raised her head, looking the bodyguard in the optics. There was no anger there, none of the animalistic rage there had been last night. Wildfire gazed at her with the loving devotion of a turbohound pup, a look of adoration and worry that melted her fear.

"Never hurt Swift," he repeated. "No one hurt Swift. Never."

Swift hesitantly reached up and rested a hand on his jaw. "You promise?"

Wildfire bobbed his head. "Promise."

She sobbed in relief and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him close. Wildfire might be a monster… but he was HER monster. He had never hurt her before, and even in the heat of his rage last night he hadn't so much as bumped into her, let alone lashed out at her in a fury. If he swore she was safe, then she believed him with all her spark.

She had no idea how long she stayed there, huddled against her bodyguard and clinging to him for comfort. But the soft rasp of a mech clearing his vocalizer made her look up.

The sleek crimson medic from earlier smiled down at her. "Hello, little one. You must be Swift."

She didn't speak, but she nodded in response. Wildfire pinned his ears back and snarled, but she tapped him on the shoulder to quiet him.

"My name is Knock Out," he told her, his tone gentle. "My daughter is a friend of your mother's. And Shockwave has given me permission to take you home with me. We're going to be taking care of you until your parents come home."

She gazed at the medic for a long moment, then nodded again. Knock Out smiled and held his hand out, letting Wildfire give it a thorough sniff before taking her hand in his claws.

"Come, little one. You've been through an awful lot in a very short time. Let's get you somewhere safe."

* * *

When Glory had left Beta Geode, the red star dragon she'd dubbed Wildfire had been a mere hatchling, feisty yet the tiniest of his nestmates. She hadn't expected to return and find him nearly full-grown, almost the size of Grimlock and with an attitude to match.

"THAT'S the runt of the litter?" Updraft demanded as they peered out of the crystal thicket, watching the red beast tussle with an amber-colored dragon. "If that's the runt, I don't even want to see his nestmates."

Glory couldn't help it - she laughed softly. "He was so small when I first saw him that Swift wanted to keep him as a pet. I told her it wasn't right to take him away from his home. He would have been entirely out of place on Cybertron."

"That's for sure," Updraft noted. "Not to mention he'd have grown up to be more destructive than his namesake."

The red dragon finally pinned the gold to the rocky ground, seizing his throat in his jaws. The amber dragon shrieked and relaxed beneath him, an act of surrender, and Wildfire gave him a final shake before releasing him and stepping back to let him up. He fairly pranced away, head high and wings unfurled, while his opponent slunk off to nurse his bruised ego.

"We'd better head back," Glory said at last. "Now that they're no longer distracted, they're more likely to spot us and attack."

Updraft nodded, and carefully followed Glory away from the dragons' nesting grounds. "I'm glad you brought me out here, though. You're right - they're beautiful animals."

Glory walked with Updraft until she felt they were a safe distance away, then took to the air and led the way back to the neutral base. Seeing the dragons again had brought back good memories, and she enjoyed sharing the experience with Updraft. But she still felt restless and guilty, itching to leave. She should be back on Cybertron with her family, doing her part in dealing with the Quintessons and the Knights. Now that she knew the truth about Scourge, being here any longer felt like a waste of time.

But she couldn't deny that Updraft had a point - she had been cracking under the strain of her duties, and the break was welcome. Perhaps it would land her in trouble when she did return home, but all the more reason to make the most of this opportunity.

 _Besides, your family's in good hands. Swift has Blitzwing and Wildfire, and Blitzwing… well, he's Blitzwing. He can take care of himself._

She touched down outside the base, in a newly cleared gap in the crystals. Bulldog had ordered an expansion of the base to accommodate an influx of new recruits, and led the work crew that demolished spires of crystal and cleared away the rubble. He didn't just bark orders, though - he pitched in to break down a particularly stubborn spire and to shovel away glittering rock. Despite their differences, Glory found she grudgingly admired him for his willingness to work alongside those he commanded.

Bulldog looked up from helping a group of carformers heft a column of red crystal into the bed of a transport. His optic narrowed as he regarded the two Seekers.

"Come to gawk at us while we work?" he snapped.

Glory shrugged. "Well, I WAS thinking of pitching in to help, but if you'd rather we watched…"

Bulldog huffed through his vents. "No need to be snarky about it. If you really want to be useful, go help shift some of this rubble. We need it all cleared out before the construction crews can get started."

Glory nodded. "Updraft, do you want to help?"

"Might as well," she replied. "No sense just standing here watching you work." And she went to help a team push one of the bigger chunks of crystal out of the way.

Glory grabbed a shovel and looked around for a place to start… and spotted Scourge digging away at a pile of crystal shards. She hesitated, then decided she couldn't avoid the Sweep forever and walked over to join him. He didn't look up from his work, but did step to one side to give her room to shovel.

For a time they worked in silence, shovels finding a rhythm, stepping aside from time to time to let the demolition crews by. At first Glory felt awkward about it, but Scourge didn't seem uncomfortable with her presence or the lack of conversation. Her own discomfort eased, and the silence shifted to something more companionable.

It took her awhile to realize that Scourge wasn't entirely silent as he worked - he was humming a tune, so soft it went nearly unheard under the whirr of his fans. Glory smiled a little as she listened. She'd always had a fondness for music, and this tune seemed familiar. Not a Cybertronian song, curiously enough… it sounded like something she'd picked up from Earth…

Her pump froze in her chest, fingers tightening around the handle of the shovel. She knew that song… but Scourge had never spent any time on Earth save a few brief battles. How could he know any of the humans' songs - especially THIS song?

Without thinking she opened her mouth, and sang along to the last few lines as he hummed:

 _And you can tell everybody this is your song_

 _It may be quite simple but now that it's done_

 _I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_

 _That I put down in the words_

 _How wonderful life is while you're in the world_

She let the last words trail away as Scourge paused in his own work, staring at her. She opened her mouth to ask the burning question, but he beat her to the punch.

"How do you know that song?"

"It was… it was something my uncle always sang to me. He always said it was my song. Well, the title was literally 'Your Song,' but it was always our special song. Like a lullaby, I suppose." She lowered her shovel. "How do YOU know that song?"

He looked down at his feet. "I… I don't know. I've always known it. It's been in my memory banks for as long as I can remember. I just assumed I heard it somewhere and it got stuck."

She shook her head, trying in vain to not get her hopes up. "Scourge… is there anything else you remember? Any memories that don't fit correctly? Anything that stands out?"

He shuttered his optics as he pondered the question. "There are a few… ones that don't make any sense. Just… kind of jumbled around in my CPU. I always assumed they were just leftovers from bad defrag cycles."

She planted the tip of her shovel into the ground, leaning on it. "Tell me one of them."

He tapped his chin with a lurid pink claw. "A Seeker… like you, but green and silver, with blue wing markings. A LOT like you, come to think of it… had your face. She's fighting some yellow carbot…" He shook his head and onlined his optics. "It probably doesn't make much sense."

Her spark flared with old grief… and new excitement. "That's my mother. Windblade."

Scourge stared at her a long moment, then sat heavily down in a pile of rubble. "You've got to be kidding me."

She knelt beside him, taking his hand. "I think… I think some of Thundercracker is inside you after all. Maybe not his spark… but some of his memories. Unicron must not have cleared them all away when he forged you."

"This is crazy." He rubbed his temples, as if the displaced memories were giving him a CPU ache. "Here I thought I just had bizarre dreams… but all this time I had another mech inside my head. Or at least some of his data."

She let out a wild little laugh, her spark blazing with delight. This wasn't what she'd expected to find here, but it was far better than nothing. Scourge wasn't her uncle reincarnated, and she would never expect him to be… but he still held a fragment of Thundercracker inside him, however small, and she hoped he would share it with her.

"Scourge… would you tell me more of what you remember?" she asked. "If you feel comfortable with it… I don't want to force you…"

"It won't make me uncomfortable, Glory." He smiled a little and climbed back to his feet. "I'll tell you more as we work. Don't want to give Bulldog an excuse to get on your case."

"Good plan." She stood and picked up the shovel again. Her guilt at staying on Beta Geode vanished as Scourge kept talking. She'd stay long enough to hear everything he had to share about her uncle, she decided. She'd come this far to find what remained of her uncle, after all - she could stay a little longer.


	13. Warning

"...and every single mech left the washracks bleached completely white," Scourge finished. "Not to mention mad as frag. Whoever was responsible for THAT stunt, I'm sure they got beaten to scrap right after."

Glory covered her mouth in a vain effort to hide her laughter. "Oh goodness… that must have been Skywarp's fault. He was fond of pranks like that. I don't remember him bleaching the entire crew of the _Nemesis_ white, though, so that must have been before I was there."

"I would have paid top shanix to see that," Updraft noted with a smirk. "Especially if Starscream was there."

Scourge shrugged. "Might have been. All Seekers tend to look alike to me except for color."

The three fliers gathered around a table in the neutrals' base, enjoying a few drinks as the two Seekers listening to Scourge's stories, a datapad on their table recording his every word. It didn't escape Glory that the rest of the neutrals gave them a wide berth, and she in particular was getting a few dirty looks from some of Bulldog's crew. A small part of her was stung by that treatment, but she did her best to brush it off. What they thought of her didn't matter - she wasn't going to be here much longer anyhow.

But she wasn't leaving yet. Not until she had heard and recorded everything Scourge had to share. It was hardly a comprehensive history - most of his memories of Thundercracker were mere fragments, images and impressions without much, if any, context - but she listened with rapt attention all the same.

Unicron must have done a sloppy job of clearing Thundercracker's memory banks before reformatting his remains into Scourge, Glory mused. At first she'd expected the Sweep to only share a few scraps of information with her, a handful of memories she could cling to. But Scourge had shared dozens of these memories so far, and showed no signs of slowing down. It was overwhelming… but she didn't regret it.

And Glory found herself forming a clearer picture of the mech her uncle had been as she pieced together the fragments Scourge had to share. Her spark thrilled at hearing of pranks her mother had pulled on him, of battles he had fought alongside Skywarp and the other fliers, of happier times on Cybertron before the war had devastated their homeworld _._ Her optics burned with tears as she learned of the deaths of Drillbit and Whirlwind - grandparents who had been offlined long before she had ever been sparked. And while a few of Scourge's memories were so obscure that she couldn't place them in the timeline of her uncle's life - such as the image of an enormous green crystal in a set of stone ruins, or Starscream with a giant snake wrapped around his chassis - she listened closely all the same.

"Thank you," she murmured as Scourge took a quick break from talking to drink from his cube. "For all of this. My uncle was like a second father to me, and hearing all this… it helps."

"I should be thanking YOU," Scourge protested. "For the longest time I thought I was just hallucinating - it can't be normal to be having flashbacks to someone else's life on a regular basis. Knowing I'm not crazy, that there's an actual source to these memories, helps a lot."

Updraft frowned and stared into her own cube. "Do you think Galvatron has flashbacks like this too? That he retains some memories of Megatron? It could explain some of why he was so unbalanced."

Scourge snorted. "If having a dead mech's memories EVER turns me as insane as THAT sadist, I hope someone puts me out of my misery. Maybe having Megatron in his CPU drove him nuts, but that doesn't excuse anything he did."

Glory kept silent, though she couldn't suppress the stab of pain in her spark. If Scourge and Galvatron both possessed memories of the mechs whose bodies Unicorn had used to create them, then it was entirely possible Cyclonus had too. If she had questioned Cyclonus, would he have confessed to remembering Skywarp's past? She didn't know… and now, thanks to the Battle of Chaar, they would never learn the truth.

Updraft nudged her under the table. "Don't, Glory. Don't think about that. Don't torture yourself."

"How did you know…" she began.

"It was all over your faceplate," Updraft replied. "Don't dwell on that now. Just focus on what you came here for."

Scourge looked back and forth between Glory and Updraft, optic ridges drawn in confusion. "What is it?"

"I… I had my suspicions on who was reformatted into Cyclonus," Glory replied. "And if it's who I think it was- ow!" She shot Updraft a glare, but if the red Seeker felt any remorse for kicking her under the table she didn't show it.

Scourge, to his credit, caught on quickly. "Ah. You worry he was made from the remains of someone else you cared about. Well… if he had any memories from his body's previous life, he never mentioned them. And I doubt he ever would."

"Do you remember who became Cyclonus?" Glory asked. "Did you see him being created, or remember what his chassis looked like before…"

Scourge shook his head. "I never saw Cyclonus' reformatting, or if I did I wasn't fully aware yet. I'm sorry… I couldn't tell you who he was before."

Glory wanted to press him, but she held her vocalizer. Whether Galvatron's lieutenant had carried some piece of Skywarp within him or not, it was too late to find out. His remains had been melted down years ago, and with them whatever remained of his CPU. The mystery of Cyclonus would remain an unsolved riddle, and she had to let it go before it drove her mad.

"Thank you anyhow," she said softly. "What you've shared with me is a lot more than I expected to find on this journey. It… it helps."

"I'm glad… I really am." He reached across the table and rested a clawed hand on hers. "I know we didn't talk much back on Chaar, and I don't know if you'll ever come back to Beta Geode… but I hope we can keep in contact. If only so I can share anything else my CPU decides to dredge up."

"I would appreciate that," she replied. "And I'll keep you updated on how the Sweeps are doing as well. It's the least I can do."

Scourge nodded and drew his hand back. "There's… there's one more memory. I was kind of saving it for last."

Her wings shivered, and she forced them to hold still. "What is it?"

"A conversation," he replied. "With Megatron. I don't remember all the words spoken, but… I do remember Megatron asking if I - if Thundercracker was going to accept custody of a child."

Her fans stilled. This had to be the day her uncle had discovered her parents - his sister and her bondmate - had died, and that he was the next choice as her guardian.

"He said yes, of course," Updraft noted. "I mean… none of us would be here talking about this if he'd refused. Unless…" She gave Glory a worried look.

"Thundercracker said yes," Scourge assured her. "That it's what his sister would have wanted. But I remember feelings as well - a lot of sadness, and a lot of fear. He was scared Megatron would consider him too soft-sparked to remain a soldier if he agreed to take you in… and scared he was going to fail you, and by extension Windblade, in some way."

A thin stream of cleanser traced down Glory's cheek, and she hurriedly wiped it away. She knew her arrival aboard the _Nemesis_ had been a huge shock for everyone involved, especially her uncle - but she had never stopped to think just how terrified Thundercracker must have been to suddenly become a parent. She'd been anxious enough adopting Swift, and she'd actually had some time to warm to the idea before committing to it. How much more frightening had it been for her uncle, especially with the deaths of his family compounding the matter?

 _He really did sacrifice a lot for you,_ she thought. _And was prepared to sacrifice a lot more. He took you in despite being terrified of screwing up, and he even risked his freedom - his life - to try to keep you from being upgraded early. Maybe he wasn't totally committed to the Decepticon cause… but he would have given everything for his family. For you._

The moment was shattered by a claxon sounding throughout the base. She wiped the remaining cleanser from her cheeks and shut off the recorder, then stood, ready to engage her armblades if necessary.

"Don't tell me we're under attack," Updraft demanded.

"Probably star-drags," Scourge growled. "Most of the time they leave us alone, but a few of the younger ones come to breathe plasma on us and stir up trouble. The red one's the biggest pest. Not a mech here that hasn't been at least nipped by him."

Glory snorted. What was it about the name Wildfire that made whoever bore it so feisty?

"Get to your positions, mechs!" Bulldog ordered, storming into the mess hall. "We have an unauthorized ship in our airspace! Marks-mechs, get to the gun turrets! Fighters, get ready for a possible ground engagement! Everyone else to the shelters! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill!"

"What will you have us do, Commander?" Glory asked.

Bulldog gave her a disdainful sneer. "Stay out of our way is what you can do. This ain't your fight."

"We aren't just going to stand back and watch your people get hurt," Glory retorted. "We can join your fighters, or even intercept the ship while it's still in the air."

"This is a neutral fight!" Bulldog snapped. "Not a Decepticon fight!"

"It's a _Cybertronian_ fight," Updraft snapped. "We don't care about your factions or lack thereof. We just don't want to see innocent people hurt."

Bulldog opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a silver-armored carbot running into the mess hall - Transmitter, whom Glory recognized as Beta Geode's communications officer.

"Bulldog, sir! Tell the gun-mechs to stand down!"

"Fraggit, Transmitter, we've already had to repel one shipload of Decepticons!" Bulldog snapped. "If you think I'm going to stand by and let them overrun our-"

"That ship's not Decepticon!" Transmitter insisted. "It's neutral! From the colony on Azathoth!"

Bulldog's optic flared in shock. "But if they sent a ship without alerting us… that's gotta mean…"

Transmitter nodded. "Quintessons attacked Azathoth. Wiped the colony out. The survivors are aboard that ship, and they're requesting refuge here."

* * *

Bulldog hadn't wanted Glory to sit in on his meeting with the leader of Azathoth's neutrals, but she had insisted. Anything that had to do with the Quintessons was her business, she figured - with an attack on Cybertron all but imminent, they needed all the information on these creatures they could get. And perhaps if she returned to Polyhex with valuable intel, it could possibly soften any possible punishment coming her way.

 _That's a selfish way of thinking,_ she chided herself. But she found herself hoping anyhow.

The leaders of Beta Geode's neutrals and Azathoth's neutrals were a study in contrasts. Bulldog was a bulky bronze tankformer, battered and scarred with a patch over one optic and a brusque, no-nonsense demeanor. Stagecoach was tall and slender, armored in shining white and blue and with a gracefully crested helm. His armor was scuffed and dented from the attack and evacuation, but what patches hadn't been damaged still shone with a recent polish, and he carried himself with the regal air of a former noble.

"We thank you for taking us in," he told Bulldog in a soft, feathery voice, accepting the cube Transmitter brought him. "I hope we won't burden you for too long."

"Stay as long as you need to," Bulldog told him, voice gruff but not without warmth. "The colonies look after each other."

Stagecoach nodded, then let his gaze move to Glory, frowning. "Is there a reason the Decepticon Air Commander is here? I wasn't aware Beta Geode had ties to the Decepticons."

"We don't," Bulldog growled. "She's not even supposed to be sitting in on this meeting. But she insisted."

"The Quintessons have been attacking colonies and outposts of all sorts - Autobot, Decepticon, Destron, and neutral," Glory replied. "Commander Shockwave is dedicated to stopping them, but in order to do so we need all the information we can get on them. Anything you can tell us about this attack would be most appreciated, Stagecoach."

The white mech's frown remained, but something in his stance relaxed. "Forgive me, Air Commander… I was an Autobot before I renounced my sigil. I've tried hard to let go of my prejudices, but I'm still a little nervous around those who wear the Decepticon symbol. Old habits die hard, and all of that."

Glory nodded. "I understand that all too well, Stagecoach." She looked to Bulldog for permission to continue, but he pointedly avoided her gaze, as if trying to pretend she didn't exist. "What can you tell us about the attack?"

"What is there to tell?" He raised one hand in a gesture of helplessness. "They attacked without warning, in the middle of the night when most of us were in recharge. By the time we knew what was happening, they'd captured or offlined half the base. The rest of us managed to evacuate, but they bombed the base into oblivion as we fled. Everything we've worked so hard to achieve… is destroyed."

Glory's tanks clenched, and she resisted the urge to reach across the table and pat his hand. He sounded so broken, so despairing… and so much like Emperor Deszaras had when he and the surviving Destrons had come to Polyhex for refuge. Had Stagecoach, like Deszaras, lost someone close to him in the attack? Did he hold on to any hope that his people could go back to Azathoth and reclaim their home, or had he given it up as lost?

"How many made it out alive?" asked Bulldog. "How many injured?"

"About two hundred of us made it to Beta Geode. Roughly half of us are injured in some way, with about thirty-five critical injuries." He leaned his elbows on the table and cupped his face in his hands. "We founded the Azathoth colony to save ourselves and our children from the war… and somehow war found us anyhow. How can the universe be so cruel?"

"I'm sorry, Stagecoach," Glory said softly. "I truly am. If there's anything I can do…"

He sighed and lowered his hands. "Tell us if Cybertron is accepting refugees? I left our homeworld in pride, thinking that my followers and I were above the petty squabbles between the Autobots and Decepticons. To think that I'll be slinking back with my tail between my legs, so to speak… it's depressing. But I suppose it can't be helped."

"You're not goin' back," Bulldog snapped. "You're all welcome here. We were expandin' the base anyhow - we can expand some more."

Stagecoach sighed again. "I hate to burden you any more than we already have… but thank you, Bulldog. This means more to me than you can know. And you as well, Air Commander. I had thought the rumors that the war had ended in a peace treaty were exaggerated… but your kindness gives me hope that perhaps our people are capable of getting along after all."

She didn't have the spark to tell Stagecoach about the Knights of Cybertron and the other recent upheavals. "Is there anything else you can tell us about the Quintessons? Numbers, what types of soldiers they had?"

He shook his head. "The attack came so fast… it felt like thousands, though in all likelihood their numbers weren't THAT high. The Quintessons themselves didn't do much of the actual fighting - they hung back and commanded their drones." His optics dimmed as he pondered a little more. "We did shoot down a few of the aliens themselves before we fled… and a number of the drone fighters simply stopped fighting. It was as if they were connected somehow."

Glory filed that tidbit away. It could prove useful. "Thank you, Stagecoach. I wish there was more I could do for you and your people."

Bulldog snorted. "Neutrals take care of their own, Air Commander. We've got this handled. We don't need 'Cons tryin' to be helpful."

This time she didn't bother hiding her optic-roll. "If you can stand taking some advice from a Decepticon, Commander, I advise that you prepare your own base for a possible attack. Azathoth isn't far from Beta Geode, and it's possible the Quintessons will come here next."

"You think I don't know that?" Bulldog retorted. "You take care of your own kind, Air Commander, and I'll take care of mine." He waved her out. "Get out of here. I'll take it from here."

"Good luck to you, Air Commander," Stagecoach told her.

She nodded at the white mech as she left the conference room. As much as the neutrals liked to think they were better than the Autobots and Decepticons for staying out of the fighting, they could be just as prejudiced about faction as anyone else. At least Stagecoach had been willing to overlook faction or former faction… and she had to admit that she could probably learn a thing or two from him.

Updraft and Scourge waited for her outside the conference room, and Updraft spoke first: "How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," Glory replied. "We've lost another colony."

Scourge winced. "I knew they saw us as property… but I never thought they'd try to collect their lost property, so to speak."

"At least Velocitron was able to repel their attack," Updraft noted. "I still have friends there… I just hope they're okay."

"As soon as we get back, maybe you should contact them," Glory told her. "In the meantime, we-"

A shout from down the corridor interrupted her, and she realized a commotion of some kind had kicked up in the base's medical center. Glory knew that what happened here shouldn't be her business, but she hurried toward the medbay anyhow. If violence of some kind had broken out, maybe she could put a stop to it.

She burst into a scene of chaos. The base's medic and several other mechs were fighting to restrain a terrified patient, struggling to pin the flailing limbs and wings. Glory caught glimpses of navy and red armor, of sleek curved wings like those of a bird of prey, and for a pump-stopping moment she wondered what Emperor Deszaras was doing here. Had Shockwave sent him to hunt her down? She wanted to say that was impossible, the Destron Emperor would never take orders anyone, but after the loss of his bondmate had crushed him, she wasn't sure…

"Get your hands off me!"

Glory started. That was NOT Deszaras' voice - it held his unusual accent but was less thunderous… and more feminine.

"Please, you're badly injured!" the medic insisted. "We're just going to repair you! But you need to hold still before you hurt yourself worse!"

"I'm NOT staying here!" she protested, batting her wings furiously. "I have to find the Destrons… I have to warn them…"

"Ma'am, you're not going anywhere until we repair you!" the medic told her. "Please, just calm down…"

"Esmeryl?" Glory asked, hurrying to the femme's side. "Esmeryl of Neo-Kaon?"

She froze, her scarlet optics wide and staring at Glory in panic. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm Air Commander Glory," she told her, holding a placating hand out to her. "Ma'am… your conjux is wild with grief about you. He thinks you're dead."

"Deszaras… please tell me he's okay." Her optics still shone with fear, but she stopped fighting as the medic and his assistants eased her back onto the berth.

"He's okay physically," Glory assured her. "Emotionally, he's still grieving. But I think he'll be the happiest mech alive to see you again."

She relaxed, folding her wings as the medic worked on sealing a fuel line she'd re-ruptured in her panic. "I'm glad to hear that… but I still need to warn him. He's gone to Cybertron, right?"

Glory nodded. "The Destrons are taking refuge in Helex, though they plan to go back to Neo-Kaon soon and retake it. And warn him of what?"

"Don't interrogate her," the medic scolded. "She's in no shape to-"

"No," Esmeryl interrupted, glaring at the medic. "This needs to be said. The future of our kind is at stake."

Glory leaned a bit closer. "How did you get here? We all thought the Quintessons had captured you… or worse."

"They did capture me," she replied. "I was able to escape, though I was badly hurt in the process. I made it as far as Azathoth, and they took me in for rest and repair… but then they fell under attack. I must have brought Neo-Kaon's bad luck there with me." She forced out a chuckle.

"No… the Quints would have gotten to Azathoth sooner or later. But you mentioned a warning."

She nodded. "The Quintessons treated us like objects… and as a consequence they saw nothing wrong with holding conversations in front of us. They're planning an assault on Cybertron, to take back what they see as rightfully theirs."

Dread seized Glory's spark in an iron grip. "When?"

"They didn't give an exact timeline," she replied. "But… soon. They'll be moving out against Cybertron any cycle now."

* * *

A sliver of light fell upon the battered mech, and he shuttered his optics against the brightness. A snarl filled his tiny cell, and it took him a moment to realize it was coming from his own vocalizer. Curse these Autobots… they put on a good show of acting merciful and weak, but insisted on torturing him at every opportunity, locking him in solitary confinement simply for trying to seek his freedom. He would ensure every single one of them suffered a painful and messy deactivation when he regained his throne!

The light flooded his cell now, and he finally opened his optic shutters a slit to make out his tormentor. All he could make out was a bulky silhouette with a crested helm, one that didn't speak but simply stared at him as if he were some kind of sideshow freak. He ground his dental plates and slowly pushed himself to his feet, his joints creaking from days of inactivity. This one would be the first to go…

"Galvatron." The mech's voice was low and flat, as robotic as Soundwave's. "How far the mighty have fallen."

"That's LORD Galvatron to you!" He staggered to his feet, growling as his limbs screamed with pain. "You've come to taunt me, then? To gloat over my capture? Laugh all you want, but you'll be howling for mercy by the time I'm through-"

The mech chuckled, and Galvatron went silent, so furious at the Autobot's audacity that he couldn't squeeze out another word. "You haven't changed an iota, Galvatron. You're still the same lunatic we all know and hate." He chuckled again. "That's perfect for our needs."

Galvatron scowled, his fritzing CPU struggling to process what he was hearing. "What are you playing at?"

The mech stepped back from the doorway of his cell. "We've handled the guards and shut down the camera feeds. From here, it's a clear path to the exit for you."

Galvatron stared for a long moment, until the mech's words finally cut through the haze in his processor and registered in his CPU. This mech… was setting him free? Some part of him, that last bit of logic and reason, screamed that this had to be some kind of trap, but he squashed that annoyance immediately.

"And once I'm out… then what?" he demanded.

The mech's face was hidden by a mask, but even with mask and voice modulator his grin was clear. "Then you go play. And exact revenge upon those who put you here." He made a grand gesture with one arm, like a servant showing a prestigious guest into a room. "And if anyone asks… the Decepticons let you out. Wouldn't want your words to contradict with the signs left here, would we?"

Galvatron gave a grin of his own, one frightening enough to make his rescuer take a wary step back. Then the violet Decepticon charged out the door… and to freedom.


	14. Knights

_WARNING: This chapter contains a higher amount of gore and violence than usual for my writing (a little more than halfway through the chapter). Read at your own discretion._

* * *

Glory wanted to rush home as fast as possible, frantic to beat the Quintesson invaders to Cybertron. The attack could come at any moment, and if she arrived to find their homeworld under siege she would never forgive herself. But Esmeryl insisted on accompanying the two of them, and they had to slow their pace to accommodate her injuries and slower alt mode. Glory tried not to let her frustration show, but she still itched to push her companions faster to make up for lost time.

"I'm sorry," Esmeryl told them for what had to be the twelfth time since their departure. "I don't mean to slow you down. Perhaps I should have stayed behind…"

"No," Updraft told her firmly. "You are NOT a burden. And we're not leaving you behind. You deserve to be reunited with your family, especially after all you've been through."

"You also have valuable intel about the Quintessons," Glory added. "If it can help us repel an attack on our homeworld, then that's worth bringing you along."

Esmeryl put on a burst of speed, her engines groaning with effort, and nudged Glory's wing with her own. "You sounded a lot like an Air Commander there… and not so much like the idealistic Seeker Deszaras always spoke so highly of."

Glory sighed. "I'm sorry… that sounded so impersonal. I'm happy that you're alive, and eager to reunite you with your conjux… but I AM an Air Commander. I have to think like one much of the time."

"You serve the Decepticons as an Air Commander," Esmeryl told her. "That doesn't make it your whole identity. You're allowed to just be yourself from time to time, you know."

Glory sighed again, though she gave Esmery a nudge back to show her words were appreciated. It was hard NOT to let her position as Air Commander take over her life, though… not when there always seemed to be some kind of crisis that demanded her attention. Or multiple crisis, in this case...

"We're being followed," Updraft announced.

Glory checked her radar… and tensed at the sight of the spacecraft trailing several kliks behind them. How had she missed them? Had she been that preoccupied with her own thoughts?

"It's not a shuttle," she noted. "Too small. Probably a single mech. Maybe a bounty hunter?"

"We haven't been gone nearly long enough for them to put a price on our heads," Updraft protested.

"Don't be sure about that," Glory replied. "Galvatron had a bounty out on me within hours the first time I fled Chaar."

"That's comforting to know," Updraft muttered. "More likely the bounty's on me, though - I'm sure they all think I kidnapped you by this point."

"You're an awful cynic for someone so young," Esmeryl noted.

By now the starcraft had edged close enough that Glory could scan it in better detail. She recognized the shape instantly - a strange oblong craft that looked more like a boat than anything sky-worthy. There was only one mech it could be… but it only raised more questions as to WHY he was trailing them.

"It's Scourge," she announced.

"The Sweep?" Esmeryl replied. "What's he doing here? Did the neutral leaders send him to stop us?"

"Seeing as Bulldog's been trying to kick us off Beta Geode since we got here, it seems kind of idiotic for him to try to stop us from leaving," Updraft pointed out.

"Only one way to find out what he wants." She fired off a message to the blue flier. _Identify yourself, Sweep, and state your business._

 _When did you get so formal?_ Scourge retorted. _It's me, Scourge. I just want to talk._

 _Did Bulldog send you? Are you here to arrest us?_

 _Frag, no. As far as I know, Bulldog doesn't even know I left - he's too busy with the influx of refugees from that other colony. I saw you three leave and slipped off in all the chaos._

 _That was bold of you… but why?_

 _Just let me catch up and talk to you, all right? It's not like I'm planning on taking the three of you out - you outnumber and outgun me at the moment._

"Slow down," Glory urged the others. "He's here to talk."

"How do we know we can trust him?" Esmeryl insisted.

"I trust him," Glory replied firmly. "If he says he's not here to hurt us, I believe him." It wasn't just his link to her uncle that made her trust him - he had proven to be a far nicer and even-tempered mech than she'd expected out of a former lackey of Galvatron. Whatever business he had with them, it wasn't to harm them.

"What do you want?" Updraft demanded as Scourge pulled closer.

"Relax, I'm not here to pick a fight," he assured them. 'I… I'm coming back to Cybertron with you."

Glory's engines hitched in surprise. "I thought you refused to go back."

"I did at first," he admitted. "But… from the sound of it, things are getting bad back home. And maybe Bulldog's answer is to stick his head in the sand and pretend that what affects Cybertron isn't going to affect Beta Geode, but I don't believe that for an astrosecond. I have to do something… and if it means going back when I swore I wouldn't, so be it."

Glory would have smiled had she been in robot mode. For now, she settled for lightly bumping Scourge's side with her wing. "Thank you. We'd be grateful for your help. Be warned, though - we've got other problems on Cybertron besides an impending Quintesson attack."

"The Knights of Cybertron you told me about?" Scourge asked with a snort. "I'm not afraid of them."

"Knights of Cybertron?" Esmeryl repeated. "I thought they were a myth!"

"Not the legendary Knights," Glory told her, gunning her engines - they could fly and talk as far as she was concerned. "An Autobot terrorist group that's taken the name for Primus-knows-what purpose. They've been targeting Decepticons for the past quatrex - protests, bombings, murders. And they've made it clear they won't stop until the Decepticons have left Cybertron for good."

Scourge groaned. "So much for the war being over. What else can go wrong anyhow?"

"Well, now that you've said THAT, something else is going to," Updraft retorted.

"Enough," Glory ordered. "Let's just focus on getting home. Esmeryl, if you feel yourself tiring or hurting, let us know, all right?"

"I'll be fine," she assured them. "Don't worry about me. We have bigger problems, from the sound of things."

Glory poured more power into her thrusters, surging a little ahead of her unlikely group. The Quintessons and the Knights had to be stopped at all costs. She'd lost enough from the Great War and its aftermath - she wasn't going to lose anyone else to this resurgence in violence.

 _Hold on, Swift… hold on, Blitzwing… I'm coming home._

* * *

Blitzwing roused to a throbbing ache in his cranial unit, a searing pain in his wrists… and an all-too-familiar ruckus filling his audials. He knew that cacophony all too well - the thunder of pedes on metallic floors, the click and snap of power cells being snapped into pistols and rifles, the hum of energy blades being activated. Voices and chatter rumbled just under the surface of those sounds, the nervous but eager voices of mechs preparing for battle.

Despite being chained to the wall, a prisoner to these lunatics, Blitzwing couldn't suppress a thrill of excitement at the sounds. There was nothing quite like the promise of a pump-pounding battle to stir his spark, the anticipation of his fist meeting an enemy chassis or his blade biting into alloy. It had been far too long since he'd engaged in true battle - not drunken fisticuffs at his hole-in-the-wall bars, but a real fight…

He shook his head and tried to focus his optics, ignoring the unsettling sensation of coolant and energon dripping from ruptured lines in his wrists. The Knights were gearing up for war, from the look of things. Was their base under attack? Or were they about to launch a strike of their own? Neither one boded very well for him… and while at least the former meant a chance at a rescue, some part of him cringed in embarrassment at actually needing a rescue.

Well… if things played out just right, maybe he wouldn't NEED a rescue. He just had to be patient - something that had never been one of his strongest traits, to be honest. But he'd do his best if it meant getting some payback.

Payload and Hitch, the two mechs that seemed to be stuck as his regular guards, hunched over their guns close by. If Blitzwing focused enough, he could make out their conversation over the general ruckus.

"...thought we were digging in and waiting for the Air Commander to respond to the ransom demands," Payload huffed. "And then suddenly our fearless leader's ordering a strike? I wish he'd make up his mind on what exactly our strategy is here."

Blitzwing knew full well why Glory hadn't replied to any demands - she was far out of communication range, still on her quest to find Scourge. Though if she wasn't back by now… he didn't want to think something had happened to her, but anything was possible.

"Who cares about strategy?" Hitch replied, pumping a plasma shotgun with relish. "We finally get to see some action? Who's complaining about that?"

"I'm NOT complaining!" Payload retorted. "I just wish I knew what the plan was. And far be it from me to speak ill of our leader, but… sometimes I wonder if he's ever had any actual leadership experience. He talks prettily enough, but he seems to have no sense of strategy."

"How much strategy do you need to kill a bunch of 'Cons?" Hitch demanded. "Just point an' shoot."

 _Think it's gonna be harder to do THAT than you think, punk,_ Blitzwing thought with a sense of malicious satisfaction. As dangerous as these Knights could be, they seemed to forget all too easily that Decepticons were warriors, and weren't about to be wiped out so casually by a bunch of upstarts.

 _Still… they're gonna try to catch us by surprise. An' Autobots might be lousy fighters, but they can do some serious damage anyhow. Someone's gotta warn Shockers._

"Whadda we do about THIS one?" demanded Hitch, jerking a thumb at Blitzwing. "Or has the boss gotta have a strategy for THAT, too?"

"Oh, hush," Payload snapped, turning to regard Blitzwing. "I'm sure he has something in mind for him. Perhaps recording his execution and making an example of him, if nothing else."

"I say we shoot him now an' be done with it," Hitch grumbled. "Give us one less 'Con to worry about."

Payload seemed to seriously consider that for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I'm not ruining whatever plans our leader may have for him. Besides, you'll have your chance to take out a 'Con or two soon enough…"

Blitzwing doubled over as far as his chains would allow, chassis spasming with a wracking cough. His guards swore and backpedaled a step as energon sprayed from his mouth and spattered the floor.

"Fraggit, he's sick!" Hitch shrieked. "He's got a virus! Shoot 'im before he infects us!"

"Not until our leader decides he's expendable," Payload retorted, and he moved to Blitzwing's side. "Help me undo his chains. We'll get him to Ambulon for a health scan."

"Are you nuts?!" demanded Hitch. "He's a 'Con, for frag's sake!"

"He might still be of use to us," Payload retorted, freeing the triple-changer's mangled wrists from their bonds. "Besides, if he's sick enough to be coughing up energon, he's in no shape to-"

The rest of his sentence cut off with a burst of static as Blitzwing's hands closed around his neck. His optics flared once in utter shock as the triple-changer clenched his fingers, crushing his vocalizer before he could shout out a warning.

"Oh slag," Hitch growled, raising his gun.

Blitzwing grabbed Payload's arms and twisted him around, and the Knight took the shot meant for him squarely in the chest. He flung the dead chassis aside and charged Hitch, a savage snarl on his lip plates, the last of the fuel and coolant he'd collected from his leaking wrists trickling from the corners of his mouth. He knew he probably looked like a monster… and that was all right by him.

Hitch managed to squeeze off another shot, but it went hopelessly wide, shredding the tip of Blitzwing's right wing before he was tackled to the floor. He shrieked and writhed, struggling to escape as blows rained down on his chassis. A haze of crimson fell over Blitzwing's vision as he vented his rage and frustration and fear, taking it out on the Knight that had harassed him during his captivity.

Shouts cut through the haze, and he looked up from the twitching chassis beneath him to see a cluster of Knights charge into the room. He felt no fear at the sight of them - only a savage glee. At long last, he had the fight he craved so much.

He grabbed for Hitch's weapon, figuring he wouldn't need it anymore… but he snatched up a thick length of chain instead. It would do.

A broad-chested truckformer lunged at him with a roar, energy sword raised. Blitzwing ducked beneath the glowing amber weapon and looked the chain about the mech's throat, drawing it tight and yanking hard. He got one look at the horror on the mech's face before his head separated messily from his shoulders, the chassis slumping to one side in a fountain of energon.

If the other Knights were deterred by the gruesome death of their comrade, they didn't show it. They mobbed him, one diving to grab his legs, another leaping onto his shoulders and clawing at his visor, still another thrusting a blade at his abdomen. Blitzwing almost laughed as he kicked out at the minibot gripping his legs, launching him across the room. Had they all forgotten their guns in the rush, or were they under orders to only subdue him? Either way, he was going to enjoy this…

Fire streaked through his side as the blade finally found a chink in his armor. He bellowed in fury and slashed the chain across his attacker's face, and the femme staggered away with a scream as she clutched her shattered optics. He yanked the blade from his side and plunged it into her chest, and she crumpled.

The mech clinging to his shoulders continued to gouge at his face, hissing with rage. He gave a hiss of his own and slammed his back against the wall, smashing the mech between his chassis and the unyielding metal. His attacker squealed in pain but didn't release his grip, and Blitzwing rammed the wall again and again until, with a sickening crunch, his hold finally went slack.

The crack of a gunshot caught his audials, and he whirled to see a deep blue carbot in the doorway, gun drawn and its barrel smoking. He took a step towards her, snapping the chain like a whip, a feral grin plastered across his faceplate. Gun or not, he was taking her down…

"Blitz, it's me!" she shouted. "Calm down, big guy!"

He halted in midstep. "Steelwing?"

"Who else, you crazy trip." She kicked the chassis of the minibot she'd just shot. "When the fearless leader of this joint announced a strike on Polyhex, I figured they were going to find some way to dispose of you and came down to see if I could free you."

He spat a last glob of energon and coolant to the side and looped the chain around his wrist, just in case he needed it later. "Looks like I can free myself, Steel."

"And make a mess in the process," she noted, stepping around the headless truckformer with a grimace. "Okay, Blitz, you had your fun. Let's get out of here."

"Whatever happened to sticking 'round until you knew who the boss was?" Blitzwing demanded, though truth be told he was all too happy to leave this place.

"I've got it narrowed down to a few options," she replied, motioning for him to follow her. "And while I might not have cracked that particular puzzle yet, I was able to get a message to Shockwave. He has troops mobilizing to stop these lunatics."

"Good." Blitzwing cracked his knuckles. "Let's show these slaggers that Cybertron's our home too. And we ain't gonna let a bunch of extremists take it from us."

"Yeah, yeah, you idealist," Steelwing retorted. "You're just itching for a fight."

"There a problem with that?" He paused a moment to assess his injuries - a painful but shallow puncture in his right side, a wingtip injury, and ruptured lines in his wrists - then decided they weren't serious enough to worry about. "Weird that they'd be attacking now of all times, though. Even some of the Knights were complaining about it - said their leader was actin' like he had no actual leadership experience."

Steelwing's optics flashed briefly red before shifting back to the blue of her cover persona. "No leadership experience… that narrows it down even further. You just might have helped me crack this."

"You know who's behind this whole mess?"

"I got a pretty good idea. But let's get the slag out of here first."

He nodded and followed her out, picking restlessly at the chain on his wrist. He had to get out of here, had to go join in the fight to protect Polyhex… and make sure Swift was okay. If anything happened to his daughter as a result of this chaos, he would never forgive himself.

* * *

Part of Swift felt a little guilty for enjoying herself while her parents were missing. She still worried about them, of course, and couldn't shake the gnawing fear that she'd never see them again. But there were moments when she found herself forgetting that fear and worry, losing herself in a board game with Knock Out and Breakdown or a holofilm with Windjammer. And while it was nice to forget her anxiety for a moment or two, she wondered if she was somehow doing something wrong in putting her worry aside.

The adults - Knock Out, his conjux Breakdown (who she had to keep reminding herself wasn't the Breakdown she knew as one of Ricochet's dads), and their son Windjammer and daughter Uppercut - assured her that she wasn't terrible for enjoying herself despite the crisis. But she couldn't shake the feelings despite their reassurances.

"You're still just a kid, sweetspark," Breakdown told her as they settled down for their evening energon. "You can still worry about your parents but have fun and continue to be a kid. And don't worry, Shockwave has troops searching night and day for your creators. They'll find 'em. I'm sure they're going to be all right."

Swift didn't feel so sure about that, but accepted it for now. "And Updraft too, right? She's with Mama, Daddy said. They'll protect each other."

Knock Out and Breakdown exchanged a look at that, and Swift wondered if she'd said something wrong. But Knock Out gave her a comforting smile.

"Updraft knows how to take care of herself," he replied. "Your mother too. They'll look after each other."

Swift nodded and scooted closer to Windjammer as she drank from her cube. For whatever reason she felt more comfortable around the gigantic flier than anyone else. Maybe his size and his wings reminded her of Daddy, or maybe it was just his gentle, quiet nature… but his presence soothed her. Wildfire still wasn't entirely sure of him and grumbled low in his throat whenever Swift got close to him, but at least he kept his violent impulses under control around him.

"You know, I'm surprised drones like Wildfire haven't been more in demand," Uppercut, a bulky blue femme who worked at one of the major hospitals in Polyhex, noted. "Especially with the recent threats. A bodyguard who protects children but also serves as a loving companion seems like it'd be a hot commodity."

"Not when they're ill-tempered enough to attack anything that so much as looks at them strangely," Knock Out replied with a chuckle.

"I don't think he's ill-tempered at all," Uppercut insisted, bending down to set a bowl of fuel on the floor for Wildfire. "If anything, he loves his charges, is utterly devoted to them to the point of obsession. I think his protective instincts are way too keyed up, but if he could be mellowed out a bit, he'd be the perfect companion."

Swift stiffened, a new fear blooming in her tanks. "He's perfect just how he is. Don't change him!"

"We won't, don't worry," Windjammer assured her. "We're just talking about what to do if we made more drones like him. Pets for other kids that can protect them if something happens."

Swift relaxed again and scooted against the flier's side. As much as Wildfire's fury had terrified her, she wouldn't want to change him for anything. She just wished he could have turned some of that fury on the mechs who had kidnapped Daddy. Maybe grownups needed protective pets like Wildfire - it might make them all feel a lot safer.

"After you've refueled, little one, would you like me to polish you?" Knock Out asked. "I've often found that looking good can help you feel better."

Swift nuzzled against Windjammer's side. "I wanna stay with him tonight. An' Daddy says I'm not allowed polish for another vorn or two."

Knock Out rolled his optics in such dramatic fashion that Swift couldn't hold back a giggle. "Oh, one of THOSE parents. There's absolutely nothing wrong with children getting a nice polish or wax from time to time. You're never too young to start looking your best! Why, Updraft was asking for double-coats by the time she was your age."

"I'd respect her parents' wishes, Knock Out," Breakdown countered. "Just because we're watching her doesn't mean we get to spoil her."

"What's the use of having another little one around if we can't spoil them outrageously?" Knock Out retorted, grinning widely. "But it's your decision, Swift. We're not going to hold you down and subject you to it if you don't want it."

"Wildfire would scratch your finish to Pit and back if you tried," Uppercut reminded him with a slight smirk. "And we can't have THAT, can we?"

Swift was about to say that she'd agree to a polish if Windjammer would do it too… but she never got the words out. An alarm sounded outside, making her tanks clench and nearly eject the fuel she'd just drank. She'd heard alarms like that back at Shockwave's academy, and they'd always meant something terrible - an Autobot strike, or a bomb threat… or worst of all, the monster that had destroyed the academy and trapped them in the shelters beneath for days until the Autobots had dug them out…

Windjammer's arm wrapped around her, hugging her close. "'Sokay, little one," he murmured. "It's okay. You're safe here."

She realized she was shaking and whimpering, and she tucked herself against his chassis. "What's happening?"

Breakdown had cocked his head to one side, catching a message or broadcast of some sort, and his expression was grim as he spoke. "Riots at the border. Autobots are tryin' to breach the checkpoints. They're recommendin' anyone living near the boundary line stay indoors until it blows over."

"Knights." Uppercut spoke the word with disgust. "We're all Cybertronians. We're all the same in spark. Why does it matter to them what sigil we happen to wear?"

Swift looked up at Windjammer, terror clutching her spark. "How far are we from the border?"

"About twenty kilometers," Windjammer replied. "Don't worry, it's a bigger distance than it sounds like-"

Breakdown flinched, as if whatever message he'd just received had physically pained him. "Fraggit!"

"What is it?" demanded Knock Out. "What's going on?"

In answer Breakdown strode toward the viewscreen and activated it. An all-too-familiar silhouette filled the screen, one that sent a fresh wave of shivers through Swift's chassis. The synthesized voice had been flattened and altered beyond recognition, but still managed to drip with menace.

" _Citizens of Cybertron, the time has come upon us. The Decepticons, the destroyers of all we have held most dear, have refused to heed our warnings. They continue to spread amongst us like a virulent rust, corrupting and corroding our society. Left unchecked, they will bring ruin upon us… and so the time has come to scrour Cybertron clean of their foul presence._

" _We have given the Decepticons ample warning and time to peacefully leave our homeworld, and they have ignored us. So let any oil shed today fall upon their heads. Today, the Knights of Cybertron make their stand. Today, we will drive them from our planet… or wipe them out. We will make Cybertron safe once again for Autobot-kind, and show them that we will not sit idly by and watch them conquer us all over again._

" _Autobots, rise up! Take up your arms! Let us purge ourselves of those who have terrorized us for so long! And Decepticons… this is your last chance. You can leave this planet alive, or stay and be smelted. The choice is yours."_

The screen flickered, and the sinister silhouette gave way to a news broadcast showing the border checkpoint near Polyhex… a border checkpoint in flames. Swift caught a quick glimpse of mechs swarming past the checkpoint, of a cluster of them dragging the Decepticon guards into the street, before she tucked her face against Windjammer's side. It couldn't drown out the screams or the crack of gunshots, though, or the terrible knowledge that something bad was happening, and she was powerless to stop it.

"Primus," Windjammer murmured, his arm wrapping protectively around Swift. "This is bad."

"Observant as always, bro," Uppercut noted, though she sounded worried beneath her snark as well. "Does this complex have a bomb shelter?"

"Yes, left over from the days of the war," Knock Out replied, pushing himself to his feet. "I never thought we'd have to make use of it when we came back, but… life is full of surprises. Everyone be ready to leave in five minutes."

Wildfire had been snarling continuously since the alarms had begun, but he stopped and turned to Knock Out, ears pressed back but optics bright with interest. "Protect Swift? Protect family?"

Knock Out nodded gravely. "Yes… protect the family. For once we're in agreement." And he hurried off.

Windjammer scooped Swift and her dragon toy up in one sweep of his arms, hugging the sparkling to his chest. "C'mon, little one… let's get to the shelter."

She didn't reply but just kept her face pressed against his neck cables as he carried her away, Wildfire trotting at the flier's heels. Her processor felt numb from everything that had happened, as if it were unable to absorb any more data. All she could do was cling to her protector and hope that, whatever happened next, they'd be safe… and that those she cared about would be safe too.


	15. Responsibility

Shockwave hadn't truly expected the truce between the Autobots and the Decepticons to last long. Bad oil lurked too closely beneath the surface for that, and hostility would continue to simmer between both factions for cycles to come. It was only a matter of time, he had theorized, before the Prime and his council decided the Decepticons were too dangerous to remain on Cybertron and tried to force them out, or some Autobot leader acted of his own accord and launched a strike.

He hadn't expected this, however - a terrorist attack on Polyhex itself. As dangerous as the Knights of Cybertron had proven to be, he had not calculated that they would be THIS brazen in their goals.

He stared out the window of the highest room in his new tower at Decepticon headquarters, watching smoke rise from the city below. His troops were out in force, struggling to push the invaders back over the border, but the Knights fought with the crazed strength of zealots, too caught up in their own fervor and propaganda to listen to reason or care about their own safety.

 _Doubtless their leader has promised their martyrdom will not be in vain,_ Shockwave thought. _That any energon shed on their side will be another strike against us. Which isn't so far off the mark - even in self-defense, these deaths will only tarnish the Decepticon sigil all the more._

"Shockwave, sir."

Shockwave turned to regard Beatbox. The green cassette-carrier saluted sharply before hurrying forward.

"Bad news, sir," he informed the Decepticon commander.

 _At this time, what other news is there?_ Shockwave thought dryly. Aloud he only said "Speak it."

"Just got a report from the correctional facility - Galvatron's loose. Someone shot their way inside and managed to release him from solitary. No sign of him or of whoever let him out."

Shockwave found himself wishing he wasn't known for his iron self-control - it would have been immensely satisfying to fly into a frustrated rage at that moment, even if it wasn't productive. "And of course we can spare no troops to locate him, given the current state of affairs. What are the Autobots doing about this?"

"They're sending troops to put down the Knight riots, so they're currently too busy to launch a wide-scale mech-hunt," Beatbox replied. "The facility's on lockdown, and alerts have been spread across the media channels. Beyond that…" He shrugged.

Shockwave returned his gaze to the window, as if hoping to pick out Galvatron amidst the smoke and fires dotting Polyhex at the moment. This had to be the work of the Knights - an attempt to stir up even more chaos in the midst of their attacks, he theorized. With so many Decepticon troops offworld to guard the remaining colonies and their remaining forces on Cybertron spread far too thin, they could spare no one to hunt him down.

 _Is it too much to hope that this part of their plan backfires? That Galvatron chooses to strike back at the Autobots instead of the Decepticons once he's gained his freedom?_ He personally wished no harm on the Prime or his officers, but he had to wonder just what the self-styled Knights would think if their escapee decided to launch an assassination attempt on the Autobot leaders.

"Sir, the bomb shelter's ready," Beatbox went on. "We have guards ready to escort you down."

"Negative, Beatbox," Shockwave told him. "I will remain here until this attack is over."

"Sir, it's too dangerous," the young mech protested. "The attacks are getting closer to headquarters, and we don't have the mechpower to hold them off forever-"

"I will remain here," Shockwave repeated firmly. "I am no Galvatron to abandon my troops and save my own plating when a battle gets too heated." His headfins twitched as he looked Beatbox up and down. "Where is Soundwave?"

"He… he took Echo and Stardust to the shelter," Beatbox repeated, his voice high with nervous energy. "He told me to help you hold the fort until he got back."

Of course his two most capable officers would have abandoned him during a crisis - one securing his family and the other completely AWOL and without a trace of her whereabouts. Soundwave's absence, at least, was completely understandable. If Glory ever returned to her post, he planned to have her exact reasons for fleeing Cybertron at the worst possible time before delivering punishment.

"Return to your station," Shockwave told the cassette-carrier. "Maintain communication with our forces in Polyhex and any other city currently under attack. Inform me the moment-"

A ceiling vent in one corner of the room swung open, and a white lupine form dropped down to land in a graceless heap on the floor. The cassette lay there a moment, stunned, then scrambled to all fours and shook herself.

"Whitenoise!" Beatbox rushed to her side. "Are you all-"

 _Air Commander's back, boss!_ she replied, raising a paw to fend off his attempt to fuss over her. _Just landed at the front gate!_

Mixed emotions stabbed through Shockwave at that - frustration, anger, but a curious relief as well. Glory had returned, just in time for him to hand off at least part of this crisis to her. He would worry about any possible punishment after they had handled this latest disaster.

"Is Updraft with her?" he asked.

 _If Updraft's a red-and-black Seeker, yes,_ Whitenoise replied. _And she brought back a couple other mechs too - some kinda beastformer and a Sweep._

Shockwave nodded sharply and made for the balcony, Beatbox close at his heels. A scathing lecture fell into place in his CPU as he stormed through the halls, something to make Glory realize the severity of her actions and that he couldn't let her desertion go unpunished…

The words died away once he saw the four mechs. Glory and Updraft had their arms around the shoulders of an exhausted-looking Destron femme, trying to help her walk even as she insisted she didn't need the help. A Sweep hung back, hands up as if ready to duck in at a moment's notice to lend his own aid… and despite the fact that most Sweeps looked identical to the untrained optic, Shockwave recognized THIS one's particular shade of blue.

"Sweep Commander Scourge."

Scourge froze, staring at Shockwave with bright optics. "Um… Commander Shockwave. It's been awhile."

"So it has." His gaze moved to the femme between Glory and Updraft. "Empress Esmeryl. Emperor Deszaras led us to believe you were either deactivated or beyond rescue."

Esmeryl's optics flashed. "I may look like a pushover, Lord Shockwave, but I can manage my own escape." She winced as she stepped wrong on her injured leg. "I'm here with a warning."

"You're badly damaged," Updraft insisted. "Let's get you to a repair bay first-"

"No!" Esmeryl cut in. "This is too important." She shook off the two Seekers and limped forward. "The Quintessons are planning an attack on Cybertron."

Shockwave offlined his optic, his headfins pinning back in his best attempt at an expression of utter resignation. Of course, disasters had to come in groups instead of one at a time. At least they had a little advance warning of THIS particular crisis. "Do you have an approximate ETA for this attack, Empress?"

"No," she replied. "But very soon. They were making preperations to move out when I escaped."

"Thank you, Empress." He turned to the other fliers. "Updraft, Scourge, escort her to the medical center at once. Beatbox, contact Emperor Deszaras and inform him that his conjux endura is at Decepticon headquarters, though advise him that with the ongoing crisis it may be too dangerous to attempt a visit. Glory, you will remain here. Your aid is necessary."

"We saw the fires while we passed over Polyhex," said Glory, frowning. "What's going on?"

"The Knights of Cybertron are no longer content with hit-and-run attacks," Shockwave replied. "They have launched a full-scale assault on Polyhex."

Glory's jaw dropped. "Swift… Blitzwing…"

Shockwave saw no reason to dance around the issue or soften the blow of the news. "Swift is in the care of Knock Out at the moment… but Blitzwing was captured by the Knights several days ago."

* * *

Had Shockwave greeted his wayward Air Commander by firing his arm cannon directly into her torso, he couldn't have delivered a more horrifying blow. Her vision briefly whited out in shock, her entire frame shaking. The Knights had Blitzwing… and though Swift was in good hands at the moment, she was still out in Polyhex proper, in the direct path of the Knights and their fury.

 _I have to find them, now!_ Her thrusters flared to life almost before she realized she was preparing to launch herself skyward. _I have to save-_

Shockwave's hand clamped on her arm. "You will remain here, Air Commander. You are the only officer available at this time, and you are NOT permitted to abandon your duties again."

"My family's out there!" she retorted, fury and panic rising up and threatening to choke her words. "I have to make sure they're okay!"

"You are in grave trouble as it is, Air Commander," Shockwave snapped, headfins flicking angrily. "Do not compound your situation further."

"Frag the situation!" Glory wrenched her arm free and flung herself into the air, shifting to her jet form and streaking away from the base. Dimly she realized that she was just digging her own grave deeper, but she shoved that thought aside. She would take whatever punishment Shockwave could dish out after she had made sure her family was safe.

The streets of Polyhex were in chaos. Flame-ridden buildings dotted the city, their sinister orange light glittering on the shattered glass that covered the walkways below. Decepticon soldiers grappled with Autobot fighters - but while the Decepticons fought to defend their homes and their lives, the Autobots lashed out with the crazed fury of the obsessed, blue optics ablaze with what they saw as righteous fury. Screams and the sounds of metal on metal and breaking glass underlied the constant wail of emergency sirens that filled the air, and a dense oily smoke clogged her olfactory sensors and streaked the sky with columns of twisting blackness.

She shook herself from nosecone to thrusters and pressed on. She couldn't let the horror of the situation overtake her. She had to find Blitzwing and Swift…

 _Air Commander!_ A trio of Seekers rose from the smoke below - one blue and gold, one brown, and one a garish assortment of optic-searing colors. Glory was sorely tempted to gun her engines and leave them behind, but she hung back and let Windsheer and her trine catch up. Perhaps they had something useful to tell her…

 _What's the situation?_ she asked.

 _Pretty bad, but it could easily have been worse,_ Windsheer replied. _The Knights insisted on announcing their attack with another broadcast hijack, so most civilians had time to get to the shelters before they swarmed Polyhex and other border cities._

 _We match them pretty evenly numbers-wise and outgun them easily enough, but they're fraggin' relentless!_ Barnstormer added. _They don't even seem to care for their own safety - they just keep shootin' or fightin' even when it's obvious they don't have a chance of gettin' out alive._

 _That's zealots for you,_ Glory noted. _Keep me updated._

 _Wait, aren't you going to lead us?_ Neon asked.

 _I have my own mission-_ Glory began.

 _Air Commander, we NEED you,_ Windsheer insisted. _We need you to lead us. The troops are demoralized enough with this attack - they need a capable leader to keep them going._

 _There are other officers-_

 _Busy with their families,_ Barnstormer retorted. _An' you're the one we trust most, Air Commander. Don't leave us now!_

Glory wanted to scream her frustration. She had her own family to worry about, just as much as Soundwave and Hook and the others did! And once again, she was being forced to prioritize her station over those she loved most. She should be at Swift's side, comforting her during the crisis, or out trying to find and rescue her conjux… not out here…

 _You have a responsibility, though,_ the nagging voice of reason reminded her. _You've been ducking your duties enough lately - it's time you started acting like the Air Commander you are. All the Decepticons are counting on you, not just your family._

With an internal growl and a mental effort that nearly broke her spark, she looped around to face the heart of the city. _We need to get the fires under control. Do we have someone on that?_

 _Prime sent the Protectobots to help with that,_ Windsheer replied, sounding more confident now that it was clear Glory was assuming command. _The Aerialbots are helping out as well. And Prime himself is leading the Autobot defense here in Polyhex, with Magnus and Kup helping out in Digilex and Helex._

Relief tinged with guilt flooded Glory's spark at that. Prime, as always, was making it so fragging hard to hate him by continuing to be a decent, honorable leader… and Ultra Magnus and Kup, despite their vocal complaints against the Decepticons, were unbending their pride enough to pitch in during a crisis. Her accusations against Magnus and her biting remarks towards Prime tasted all the more bitter now.

She kept her voice stern and commanding as she spoke. _If that's the case, then I want the aerial forces to focus on defending our Autobot allies - the Knights are probably going to retaliate against them. Don't land unless you have to, or unless you're absolutely sure you can take them on hand-to-hand. Careful firing on any fighting you see - I don't want us hitting our own by accident._

 _Yes, ma'am._

Glory banked and veered toward the ruins of the Fleet Fox - some vindictive Knight had set the ruins on fire, and a mob was attempting to do the same to the Rustbucket across the street. A cluster of Decepticon foot soldiers - and, to her surprise, a handful of Destrons and even several Autobots - were trying to hold the Knights back, but they were slowly losing ground to the mob's fury.

A few well-placed shots scattered the mob, and Glory pulled up before any of the Knights got it into their CPUs to retaliate. That action had only taken out one or two of the terrorists, but it had been enough to break them up, and the Decepticons surged forward to beat them back.

 _Hold on, Blitzwing… hold on, Swift… I'm coming for you as soon as I can. I just have to finish this…_

* * *

Blitzwing and Steelwing emerged from a warehouse close to the Autobot/Decepticon border, only a hundred meters from the nearest checkpoint. Said checkpoint seethed with violence as dozens of angry Autobots surged through, while others gathered in a knot on the Autobot side of the border and unleashed their fury on the unlucky border guard.

Blitzwing growled and stormed forward, unwinding the chain from around his wrist.

"You idiot, get back here!" Steelwing hissed. "You don't have a visa for this side of-"

Her warning came too late - the Autobots screamed and scattered as Blitzwing laid into them with a roar, punching and jabbing, the chain whistling through the air to strip paint and slash across delicate faceplates. He carved a path through the crowd and grabbed the guard, dragging him free of the mob.

"It's a dirty 'Con!" one mech shrieked, clapping a hand over the wounded side of his face and glaring at Blitzwing with his good optic. "You're gonna get smelted for this!"

"You started it!" Blitzwing shot back, fully aware of how childish that statement sounded but not caring. "Think you're so tough, do you, Auto-brats? How about you take on a mech actually spoilin' for a fight instead of a lone guard?"

"We're not afraid of you!" another mech shouted, though his voice quavered with uncertainty.

"Then be afraid of this," Steelwing retorted, and her shoulder cannons hummed ominously before unleashing a volley of blue-tinged energy. The Knights scattered again, this time for good, though a few dropped with sparks of blue lightning still crackling over their frames.

Blitzwing scowled. "I coulda taken 'em. You didn't need to EMP them all."

"I did NOT EMP them all, and you could NOT have taken 'em," Steelwing shot back. "Learn to accept some help for once, slagger." She crouched down by the fallen guard - Spinister, a teal-and-magenta helicopter-former Blitzwing recognized from their days back in the neutral colony. "You all right, Spin?"

Spinister groaned weakly but raised one hand in a thumbs-up gesture.

"Liar," she grumbled. "I'm gonna patch him up and get him to a medical center. You do what you gotta do, Blitz."

"What the frag do you mean, what I gotta do?"

She gave him a look as if she were addressing an idiot. "You've got a little girl on the other side of the border who needs you, dork. Go find her and make sure she's okay."

 _Swift…_ The thought of the little sparkling caught up in the violence, all by herself and no doubt terrified out of her wits, sobered him instantly. He didn't even bother to thank Steelwing, just leaped into the air and assumed his jet form, roaring over the border wall.

It was worse than he'd feared. Fires dotted the city, and the streets roiled with mechs tangling together in the sort of fighting he hadn't seen since the worst days of the Great War. Mechs gouged and slashed at one another with whatever they could get their hands on, from standard weapons to broken shards of glass to fuel bottles. Glass crunched under pedes, optics blazed with oil-lust or desperation, sirens ripped through the air to warn civilians into hiding.

Under normal circumstances, all this would have thrilled Blitzwing to the core. And even now, some part of his spark went giddy with the anticipation of an enjoyable no-holds-barred fisticuffs after so long. But his worry for Swift dampened his battle-lust, and he made a beeline for their apartment building instead of diving down to join the fighting. There'd be time for THAT after he'd made sure his daughter was safe…

He burst through the apartment door to find Astrotrain sprawled out on the couch, snoring like a chainsaw. Immediately he knew that Swift wasn't here - Wildfire wouldn't have let her out of his sight, and the crazy horse-former would have been at the door in a flash to investigate whoever had barged in. The question was where was she… and why was Astrotrain crashing here?

He stormed to the couch and kicked his fellow triple-changer awake. "Where is she?"

"Ow." Astrotrain's optics flickered, and he looked blearily up at Blitzwing. "Blitz? Blitz! What the frag are you doing here? Everyone thinks you're scrap metal for the Knights!"

"I got away," he replied shortly. "Where is she?"

"Swift's stayin' with some medic," Astrotrain replied, pushing himself upright. "Knockdown or somethin' like that. I offered to watch her but they wanted me here in case the Knights tried to come back for her, an' she didn't want to stay here anymore."

Those words eased some of the tension in his spark. "Where's this Knock guy? I gotta go make sure she's okay."

"I dunno!" Astrotrain retorted. "Somewhere in the city!"

"Great, that narrows it WAY down," Blitzwing snarled. "Come help me find her, idiot."

"Good to see you too," Astrotrain grumbled, and followed Blitzwing outside.

Blitzwing had just stepped out onto the balcony when an almighty roar made him look up. A shadow passed overhead - a silhouette of a vast winged beast, gleaming navy and silver and gold in the city lights and its scarlet optics blazing with a mix of joy and unholy fury. Other bestial forms trailed after the creature, smaller but no less vicious-looking, screaming and howling their rage as the descended upon Polyhex in a righteous rage.

"Finally, something snapped Deszaras outta his funk," Astrotrain noted. "Least he's helping us now."

"Don't care," Blitzwing huffed. "You said this Knocker guy was a medic. Any idea what clinic he works at? He probably doesn't live far from it."

"No, but he works mostly mods, so-"

A message over their comms interrupted Astrotrain's sentence, and Beatbox's words made them freeze in their tracks.

 _Quintesson ships sighted in Cybertron space! Repeat, Quintesson ships sighted! Cybertron is under attack! Repeat, Cybertron is under attack!_

* * *

The apartment complex's bomb shelter was securely underground, and Knock Out had repeatedly assured Swift that it was safe. But that didn't stop her from quaking with fear every time a rumble or a shout made its way through the walls. The utter silence within the shelter didn't help matters - none of the residents seemed willing to speak, instead listening intently to what was going on outside.

She huddled closer to Swindle's leg, and he reached down to give her a comforting pat on the helm. By some fluke, the Combaticons lived in this same apartment complex, and Onslaught had left Swindle, Firebolt, and Hornet in the shelter before taking the rest of his team out to defend the building. The presence of the other sparklings and her honorary uncle helped a little, even if it didn't completely banish her fear.

Wildfire broke the silence with a frustrated snort, his hooves clapping softly against the concrete floor of the shelter as he moved from one sparkling to the other to give them a comforting nuzzle. Hornet shied away from him, nearly paralyzed with fear, but Firebolt gave him a reassuring pat on the muzzle. Swift, for her part, just wrapped her arms around Wildfire's neck and hugged him tightly before he squirmed free to continue his silent patrol.

"Sounds like it's dying down out there," someone finally murmured. "Maybe it's safe to go out."

"Nah, wait until they sound an all-clear," Swindle advised. "Last thing we want is to walk out and get ventilated by some crazy Knight."

"Or worse," Knock Out replied. "Tell me they were joking with that last announcement."

"They wouldn't joke about that," Swindle told him. "Onslaught told me to keep it under wraps, but there've been Quint attacks on a lot of the outposts and colony worlds. Shockwave said it'd only be a matter of time before they went after Cybertron itself, but the Autobots blew him off every time he brought it up. Looks like he was right after all."

"Lotta good him being right does us now," Breakdown muttered. "We could be down here for days, it sounds like…"

Swift had no idea what a Quint was, and from the tone of the adults' voices she knew she didn't want to find out. She just hugged against Swindle's leg more tightly, wishing this was all a bad dream, that she'd wake up and be home with her parents…

Firebolt gasped as something pounded on the reinforced door. Silence flooded the shelter, and all optics fixed on the door as it rattled with blows.

"Someone wants in!" the red sparkling announced. "Maybe they need help!"

"We can't take the risk, sweetie," Swindle told her. "It could be a Knight trying to trick his way in-"

In the end, both of them were wrong. The would-be intruder assaulted the door one more time, his snarls of rage audible through the thick metal. Then a bloom of reddish light formed in the center of the door, spreading rapidly with a wave of heat that Swift could feel even in the back of the shelter.

Screams rang through the chamber as a violet mech blasted his way through the door, an orange cannon still smoking with heat on his arm as he stepped over the mess of half-melted steel. His helm sparked and fizzled as his gaze swept the room, the entire right side of his face twitching madly, a snarl of crazed glee on his lips.

"Decepticons!" he roared in a voice ringing with anger and triumph. "Bow before your TRUE leader! I, Galvatron, am here to reclaim my rightful throne!"


	16. Quintessons

When Esmeryl had warned Glory that the Quintessons' attack could come at any time, she had hoped they would have at least a few days' grace. Time to organize a defense, or perhaps even recall some of the Decepticon forces from the colony worlds to bolster their numbers on Cybertron. Beatbox's announcement was worse than even her worst fears - they weren't just unprepared, they were still trying to defend themselves from the Knights of Cybertron. They had caught Cybertron at its most vulnerable state.

 _Did they orchestrate this?_ she wondered. _Were the Knights of Cybertron somehow their doing? A ploy to weaken us so they could defeat us more easily? Or is this just a sick coincidence?_

No time to wonder further. An enormous Quintesson gunship was swinging into position over Polyhex, dropping its hideous cargo of drones onto the city. They had to act now, with all the power they could manage, to drive these five-faced freaks off for good… or they would suffer just as the colonies had.

Renewed screams rang through the streets as Sharkticon and Allicon drones hit the ground fighting, swinging flails and blades or firing blasts of plasma into the crowd. The riots dispersed as mechs scattered before the attack… but incredibly, a handful of the Knights continued to fight, completely disregarding their own safety in favor of firing on the Decepticons. It was as if they were determined to martyr themselves on the altar of their own delusions.

Glory swooped low, opening fire on a cluster of Allicons. The drones went down easily, but it was like trying to stomp on a nest of ant-droids - three more swarmed in to replace every one that fell.

 _Air Commander, there's too many of them!_ Barnstormer protested. _There's no way we can fight them all!_

 _We have to drive them off!_ Glory retorted. _The only other option is to flee and let them have the planet, and I'll be fragged before we do that!_

 _But… but…_

 _Mech up, Barney!_ Windsheer told her trine-mate. _It's our job to protect Cybertron! Time we showed these Knights we can DO our fraggin' jobs!_

If only Glory had a dozen more fliers like this femme. _Windsheer, take your trine and head for the gunship. If you see any Quintessons whatsoever, open fire with everything you've got. If my source is correct, the drones go down when the five-faces controlling them go down._

 _Yes, Air Commander. Neon, Barney, let's get 'em!_

 _Stop callin' me Barney!_ Barnstormer grumbled, but followed his trine commander into the sky.

 _Acid Storm, Sweep 1138, take your squads and follow them. We need to cut this invasion off at the source._

 _Yes, ma'am,_ the Sweep replied.

 _I'd love to, ma'am, but I'm a little BUSY at the moment!_

Funny how the Rainmaker could somehow manage to make an otherwise semi-respectful statement come out caustic. Glory suppressed a sigh but swooped lower to find and help him. She didn't like him - a mutual sentiment, it seemed - but that didn't mean he deserved to be left to fend for himself.

 _What's your location?_ she asked.

 _The street markets! Got Sharkticon drones on one side and Knights on the other! We're penned in!_

Glory's first reaction was to ask why the idiot didn't just fly to safety, but she held her vocalizer and gunned her thrusters. So much for hoping the Knights would end hostilities in the face of an invasion.

Acid Storm and his wingmates clustered in the center of the market square, their escape cut off from both directions. Sharkticons stalked forward, rumbling menacingly, huge mouths open and gleaming with jagged fangs. Blasts of plasma fire and acid rounds slammed into the front ranks of the drones, but the ugly creatures still pressed forward, completely unperturbed by their own injuries or their fallen brethren.

The Knights kept their weapons aimed at the Decepticons, but didn't open fire save to occasionally shoot at the feet of a Seeker who ventured too close. Their attention was focused on the Sharkticons, and their expressions were baffling to Glory - fear of the Quintessons' drone soldiers, but a smug satisfaction as well.

 _They're herding Acid Storm and his team,_ she realized. _They don't have the bolts, or the firepower, to take them by themselves, so they're making sure they can't escape so the Sharkticons can finish them off._ She might have been impressed by their cunning had she not been so disgusted.

Time to put a damper in their plan, then. She dove, and the Knights cursed and broke apart as she peppered the ground right before them with fire. She made another pass, firing again to keep them from regrouping, then transformed and landed beside Acid Storm.

"Where the frag have you been?" he demanded.

"You're welcome," Glory retorted. "Next time just ASK for backup."

Acid Storm curled his lip plates in a sneer but didn't argue, just kept firing on the advancing Sharkticons. At least half of his right wing had been sheared off, and smoke oozed from his thrusters, which at least explained why he hadn't simply flown to safety. Nova Storm and Ion Storm bore no major damages, but were evidently unwilling to abandon their trine leader to save their own plating.

"These fraggers don't know when to quit!" Nova Storm growled, pumping a few more rounds into a fallen drone to ensure it stayed down. "We can't keep them back much longer!"

Glory opened her mouth to give an order - what order even she wasn't sure at the moment - when the impact of metal on metal rang out over the snarling of the drones. Said snarls erupted into hysterical chattering as a bright crimson form smashed through their ranks from behind, sending bodies flying in all directions. Their mindless charge broken, they scurried about like glitchmice, only to be picked off by the very mechs they had been so intent on tearing apart moments ago.

The red vehicle skidded to a halt, leaving black streaks of rubber on the alloy of the street. Then Optimus Prime transformed, rising to his feet and raising his rifle to join the Decepticons in taking on the drones.

"You look like you could use a hand here," he noted.

Glory almost answered with a scathing retort, one that would have Shockwave dressing her down within an inch of her life. She bit it back just in time, however. Help was help, no matter what quarter it came from… and while she still might not like Optimus Prime, she could still feel grateful for his aid.

A second vehicle plowed through the Sharkticon horde, this one navy and bronze and far more militaristic in design than Prime's truck form. Onslaught shifted to robot mode and joined in the fight… a fight that was rapidly becoming a slaughter as the other Combaticons arrived, picking off the Sharkticons as they scattered before the assault.

"Whoo… that was fun!" Brawl hooted, raising a foot to stomp on the nearest fallen drone. "Let's do it again!"

"You have a perverse sense of fun," Blast Off grumbled.

"Well done, Onslaught," Prime told the Combaticon commander with a nod. "I couldn't ask for a better mech to watch my back in a fight."

"Flattery ill-suits you, Optimus Prime," Onslaught replied, though he didn't sound displeased at the compliment. "Glory… it's good to see you again." His tone suggested he had questions as to just where she had been, but he didn't press it.

"Where's Swindle?" she asked. "Is he all right?" Despite the fact that she was an adult now and far outranked him, she still regarded him as family. If something had happened to him at the hands of Quints or Knights…

"He's in a secure bunker, looking after Hornet and Firebolt," Onslaught replied. "And because I feel you're about to ask it - Swift is there as well. She's safe."

Relief swept through her… though it didn't completely ease her mind. Blitzwing was still in the clutches of the Knights, and Swift wouldn't be totally safe until the fighting was over. Still, knowing she was in the care of someone trustworthy helped.

"Orders, Air Commander?" Ion Storm asked.

"How many of the Knights are still fighting?" Glory demanded.

"A fair number, though many have ended hostilities in the face of this new threat," Prime replied. "The most zealous continue to fight, however."

"Then I want the Decepticons to focus on the Quintesson invaders," Glory ordered. "Fight the drones if they threaten you directly or go after civilians, but concentrate as much fire as you can on the gunships and the Quints aboard them. They seem to have some kind of telepathic control over the drones, and if they go down, all the drones connected to them go down as well."

"As you command, Glory." Onslaught offered her a slight bow before transforming and driving off, his team in tow. Glory couldn't help but reel slightly at that. Not so long ago she'd been a child tagging along at his team's heels, and it felt strange being addressed as a superior by the Combaticon leader.

"Nova Storm, Ion Storm, get Acid Storm to a medic," Prime advised.

Acid Storm glowered. "You Autobots may rule Cybertron, but you don't command us."

"That's enough out of you," Glory snapped. "Report to the nearest field medic. A grounded Seeker is too often a dead Seeker, and I'm not losing any more fliers today."

Acid Storm looked like he dearly wanted to retort, but thankfully Nova Storm cut in before he could make a bigger fool of himself. "We'll get him help, ma'am. The Rainmakers take care of each other."

She nodded, and the yellow and blue Seekers steered their grumbling leader down the drone-strewn street.

"What will you have the Autobots do, Air Commander?" Prime asked once the Rainmakers had gone.

"If the Autobots can keep the Knights of Cybertron off our backs long enough for us to do our job, we'd appreciate that," Glory replied.

Prime nodded. "Will do. And Glory… I owe you an-"

"This isn't the time for an apology or an 'I told you so,'" she retorted. "Say what you have to say after Cybertron's no longer in danger."

Prime's optics glinted, but with something like pride and even humor rather than anger. "Understood. I'll-"

She never learned what Prime intended to do next. For a blast of energy struck her wing, punching a hole through the metal and continuing on to sear Prime's side. She hissed in pain and whirled, armguns up, to face this new threat.

Her fans stalled out in stunned recognition. She had only seen this mech in silhouette, but there was no mistaking that crested helm and the broad, bulky frame… a frame that the mech wore awkwardly, as if it were an extra suit of armor instead of his natural plating. A mask obscured most of his expression, but his bright blue optics burned with absolute hatred as he stalked closer, gun raised, gray-and-tan armor rattling with every step.

" _So the Air Commander deigns to return to Cybertron,"_ the mech noted, his voice flattened by a modulator but still managing to burn with anger. _"That will be the last mistake you ever make."_

"Snatching my bondmate was your last mistake," Glory retorted, fury rising in her core to burn away her shock.

"Wait." Prime stepped forward before Glory could open fire, blocking her aim. "We can talk this out. We can end hostilities here. The Quintessons are threatening our world… surely that takes precedence over whatever vendetta you have with the Decepticons. Help us fight off the invasion, and we can settle this peacefully."

"What are you doing?" Glory hissed. Was he really going to try to talk sense into a fanatic? She knew Prime tended to place honor before reason, but this was ridiculous even for him!

"Trust me," he urged her. "Surely he sees that there are more important things than his cause."

The leader of the Knights of Cybertron regarded Prime's words for a full two seconds. Then he pulled the trigger, punching a hole in Prime's abdominal plates. The Autobot leader grunted, optics wide and bright with shock, as he crumpled to the ground.

" _Pacifistic fool,"_ he growled. _"A Prime who refuses to recognize the danger the Decepticons pose to our kind doesn't deserve to be a Prime."_ He swung his weapon towards Glory. _"Now for you."_

Glory fired off an emergency broadcast, signalling for help… or at least she tried to. Her comm responded only with static. She was on her own for this fight.

" _Don't try to call for help,"_ the mech told her. _"All signals in and out of this area are jammed. And you can certainly try to fly off like the cowards you Seekers are… if you think you can flee before our snipers take you out. It's just you and me, Air Commander… and I'm going to relish returning all the suffering your kind has inflicted upon the universe to you."_

* * *

The gunship hanging over Polyhex seethed with activity - Autobot and Decepticon fliers opening fire on the intruding ship with everything they had, Quintesson flying drones exchanging fire with Seekers and Sweeps and Aerialbots, wreckage raining down on the city below. It was bedlam, the stench of ozone and oil and burning metal thickening the air, cracks of laser fire and breaking steel thundering through the sky.

Blitzwing reveled in it. He had been itching for a fight like this for a long time, he realized… and it felt good to finally have an outlet for all his anger and frustration. And while some part of his CPU still worried for Swift and Glory, the rest of him burned with a desire to feel metal buckle under his fists, oil slick his blade, the rush of violence and battle...

A single-faced Quintesson manned a gun turret atop the ship, and the tentacled being swiveled the weapon around to draw a bead on Blitzwing. He responded by shifting in midair to his tank form, swinging his own gun turret around to blast the Quint and his turret into oblivion. The satisfying sight of the turret going up in flames and incinerating its occupant was cut short as he plummeted toward the ground, but he shifted back to jet mode and soared up to continue the fight.

"Showoff," Astrotrain grumbled.

"You're just jealous you got a lousy tertiary mode," Blitzwing cackled. "Let's chase these squids back to whatever hole they crawled out of!"

Astrotrain rumbled a laugh. "Nice to be fightin' with you again, Blitz."

"Nice to be back."

A hatch opened at the bottom of the gunship, ready to drop another slew of drones onto the city below. Blitzwing gunned his engines and charged through the hatch, bowling over a cluster of Allicons that had been about to disembark. The drones snarled and scrambled forward, aiming to take down the triple-changer… only to scatter again as he laid into them with both fists and chain.

A Sharkticon leaped up to sink its teeth into his arm, and with a roar of anger he grabbed the creature and flung it into the mob. More sets of metallic jaws snapped at his legs and wings, and again and again he punched and jabbed, whipping the chain to slash at optics and gaps in armor. Part of him wished he had his sword, but at the moment he was perfectly content to make do with what he had.

"Subdue it," a guttural voice ordered. "Do not damage it beyond repair. Shut it down and take it to the cargo hold."

Blitzwing glanced up to make optic contact with a Quintesson - not the single-faced ones that seemed to serve as sub-commanders on the battlefield, but one of the five-faced overseers. Even as he looked upon the hideous monstrosity it swiveled in place, shifting from one glowering visage to another.

"Surrender, Cybertronian," it ordered. "You will be spared if you turn yourself over to our care."

Blitzwing responded with another roar, and he grabbed the nearest Allicon and hurled it at the Quint. The creature squalled as the drone impacted against its lean, horned face, its tentacles flailing.

Blitzwing didn't get a chance to enjoy his moment of victory - the Allicons swarmed him, aiming to bring him down with the sheer weight of their numbers. He grabbed drones and flung them in every direction, but for every one he managed to tear off two more took its place. The Quintesson watched impassively, its injured face turned away from Blitzwing and a skeletal, fanged face taking its place.

"Impressive," it noted. "Quite impressive. This one will be a valuable commodity for us."

 _Commodity…_ Somehow that word chilled him as nothing else could. The thought of being enslaved by these twisted creatures, made into some kind of slave or CPU-less drone, made his fuel tanks churn in disgust. And the thought of them getting their tentacles on his family… of Glory in chains, of Swift leashed to the side of one of these five-faced horrors like a pet…

The ice in his spark blazed into a flaming rage, and he surged forward, his fury lending him strength beyond anything he knew he possessed. Drones flew in all directions as he launched himself at the Quintesson, slamming a fist into its eye socket. The optic shattered under his fist, sending green ichor streaking down its face, and it howled and whipped at the triple-changer with all its writhing limbs.

"WE!" Punch to the other optic, breaking it as well.

"ARE!" Punch to the mouth, feeling fangs shatter to piece.

"NOT." Another blow, right between the broken optics, metal buckling. The Quintesson backed away, though it was backed into a corner now and had nowhere to go.

"PROPERTY!"

The final blow caved that face in entirely, sending sparks and ichor flying. He grabbed the Quint and twisted it around, unleashing a hail of blows on the next face. Tentacles slapped against his armor, some trying to worm their way into gaps in his armor, but after a final violent convulsion the tendrils went still.

When Blitzwing finally stepped away from the Quint, fluids staining his fists, he whirled to face the drones, expecting to be tackled at any moment. But the drones had all stopped moving, optics dark, slumped over where they stood or just laid out flat on the floor.

 _Well, that was disappointing._ He knew he should be grateful that the fight had ended so quickly, but still, he'd hoped for more resistance. Maybe next time he'd wipe out the drones first before taking on their Quint commander. He deserved to have a LITTLE fun with this, after all…

"Couldn't save any for me?" Astrotrain demanded, hauling himself through the hatch and surveying the fallen drones and dead Quint. "Some friend you are."

"Quit your griping, you at least had the Kalliope engagement," Blitzwing retorted.

"Hey, you getting pulled from active duty's your own fault," Astrotrain pointed out, kicking a deactivated Allicon out the hatch. "You didn't HAVE to get bonded and adopt a kid."

"Oh, drop that already," Blitzwing shot back. "C'mon."

"Where are YOU going? The fighting's outside this wreck!"

"So long as we're on board, we might as well see what kinda damage we can do," Blitzwing pointed out. "Maybe we can knock this oversized tin turkey outta the sky an' take a few more five-faces out of commission."

Astrotrain snorted, but followed Blitzwing as he made his way deeper into the ship.

* * *

For a long moment, no one in the shelter so much as twitched. Terror choked the air, freezing every mech in place. Every adult mech present had heard tales of Galvatron's insanity, and seeing the crazed look in his optics for themselves was a nightmare made metal. Swindle, who had known the mech's cruelty firsthand, wore an expression of utter dread. The sparklings, who only knew Galvatron from vague rumors and overheard conversations, stared with optics blazing with the terror of one who has seen a storybook villain come to terrible life.

Wildfire had no concept of fear - he knew only a deep, burning rage deep in his core.

"Kids, get behind me," Swindle ordered, voice shaky.

Firebolt whimpered and edged closer to her father. Wildfire tried to shift to stay between her and Galvatron, but froze as a crazed roar filled the air and made every mechanism flinch.

"Don't you DARE move!" Galvatron thundered, swinging his arm cannon around to point at the Combaticon. "And I gave you insubordinate scum an ORDER! BOW TO ME!"

Breakdown slowly raised one arm, as if about to draw a weapon out of subspace… but Wildfire acted before he could reach it. He leaped, screaming, arcing through the air to close the gap between himself and the intruder.

Uppercut had been mostly correct in her assessment of Wildfire. His aggression wasn't born out of a permanent state of anger and ill-temper. Rather, it rose from another emotion, one just as strong and potentially just as destructive… love. He would have loved his charges with all his spark had he actually possessed a spark - as it was, he felt utter devotion to them, and so made it his mission to protect them from all possible harm.

And though he wasn't the brightest of mechs, he never forgot a mech who had proven to be a threat in the past. Updraft had reminded him too much of Starscream, but seeing as she hadn't threatened Swift he had reluctantly tolerated her presence… but Galvatron he knew all too well. He remembered how he had threatened Glory, and dismantled him when he had rushed to protect him.

He remembered… and he was going to ensure Galvatron remembered it too.

The violet mech's optics went bright with shock as hooves slammed into his chest plate, and he went down with a grunt. He recovered within moments and raised his arm cannon… but by that time Wildfire had already transformed, and he brought his scimitar down with another scream, splitting the weapon in half. Sparks fountained from the ruined weapon, blinding them both.

"Get him, Wildfire!" Swift shouted.

"Beat the slag outta him!" Hornet urged.

Wildfire didn't need encouragement - he swung the blade again and again, optics flaring with hatred, a hoarse cry ripping from his vocalizer. Galvatron grabbed for the bodyguard's arms, trying to stay the blows, but Wildfire responded by hacking and slashing at his foe's limbs, shearing one hand off at the wrist in his fury.

"Get OFF!" Galvatron snarled, fear finally glowing in his optics. "Get OFF of me! I'll rip you apart again for this, you traitor!"

"Protect Swift!" Wildfire retorted, punctuating every short sentence with another swing. "Protect Firebolt! Protect Hornet! Protect from YOU!"

And with one final swing he buried the scimitar in Galvatron's cranial unit. The mech gave one massive jerk beneath him and went still.

"Fraggin' Primus," Breakdown muttered. In the back of the room, someone gurgled as they emptied the contents of their fuel tanks.

Small feet thumped against the floor, and Swift flung her arms around Wildfire, heedless of the energon spattering his armor. "Good boy, Wildfire… good boy… very good boy…"

Wildfire wriggled out of her grasp long enough to shift back to horse form, then nuzzled against her, accepting her embrace. The rage cooled slightly now that the threat was neutralized, leaving room for his love and devotion to Swift to reassert itself. She was safe… all the sparklings were safe. All was right in his world.

"Swift?"

A hand reached down to touch Swift, and Wildfire pinned his audial receptors back and snarled again. _Strange mech… protect Swift… protect…_

"Wildfire, it's okay," Swift urged him, stroking his neck. "Knock Out is okay."

Wildfire wasn't quite sure about that, but he forced his receptors back up, not protesting as the red mech took Swift's hand.

"We need to go," Knock Out told them both. "It's no longer safe here. With the doors blasted open, anyone or anything can get in."

Swift nodded, but she kept her arms around Wildfire's neck as they made their way out. He had no idea where they were going, but there was one thing he knew - he had a duty to fulfill, and he wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that.

 _Protect Swift. Protect at all costs._


	17. Leader

Updraft and Scourge had intended to join the fight against the Knights' uprising as soon as they were sure Esmeryl was safely in the care of the medics. Things didn't work out quite as they had hoped, starting with the Destron's utter refusal to actually hold still and let the medics do their job.

"For the love of Primus, don't make me call up my brother and have him sit on you," Updraft told her. "You need repairs, slaggit."

"My repairs can wait," Esmeryl insisted, pushing Flatline away. "I'm needed out there!"

"No offense, ma'am, but you're going to be a lot more useful to everyone when you're not in danger of shutting down," Scourge pointed out.

"I'm _fine,_ " Esmeryl insisted, actually swatting at Flatline as he came at her with a shutdown device. "Don't touch me!"

Flatline gave a long-suffering sigh. "Of course, of course… everyone seems to have a problem with me touching them. You idiots have no problem letting Hook do your repairs, and he doesn't even have a medical degree…"

"It's not you, it's her," Updraft told him in a tone that clearly said _it's definitely you but it's also her._ "Please, we're trying to help you."

Esmeryl opened her mouth to retort… only for a deep, savage roar to drown out whatever she had to say next. Screams echoed down the corridor as something huge thumped its way closer to the room, letting out another splitting bellow. Updraft armed her guns, wondering just what kind of creatures the Knights had managed to recruit that could sound like THAT. Unless this was a particularly virulent model of Sharkticon…

"It's all right," Esmeryl told her, a wide smile gracing her features. "It's just Deszaras."

Updraft's jaw dropped. "THAT'S Deszaras?" She'd never met the Destron Emperor herself, but she'd assumed most of the stories about his ferocity and beastly nature were exaggerated. Apparently not.

"He does that when he's emotional," Esmeryl replied, as if that explained everything.

Flatline's aides yelped and scattered as a fearsome beaked head forced its way into the room. The creature tried to push through the doorway, found his wingspan wouldn't allow it, and finally transformed with a growl and hurried to the patient's side.

"Esmeryl, my love!" he bellowed, sweeping her up in his arms. "You're alive! We all feared the worst… _I_ feared the worst… ah, my dear..."

"You romantic," she laughed, arms wrapping around his neck. "I'm fine, love. You can put me down now."

"Yes, please do," Flatline ordered. "I still have repairs to make, you gigantic fool."

Updraft sighed in relief and stepped back, figuring the situation was under control. Esmeryl probably wouldn't do anything too stupid with her conjux looking after her, which meant she and Scourge were free to go out and defend Polyhex. Perhaps she could check on her family while she was at it - and if the Knights or the Quints had so much as dented them, there would be Pit to pay.

"So there you are."

Updraft froze, then slowly turned in place to look Stormrunner in the optic. "Yes, here I am," she sighed. "Unless you're here for Scourge, which I highly doubt."

The black Seeker barely glanced at Scourge before returning her glower to Updraft. "Cheeky… just like your creator. Not to mention sneaky and treacherous… and bold but stupid to have the gall to come back after your little stunt with the Air Commander."

Updraft's wings angled sharply upwards, the nervous churning in her tanks swiftly replaced with anger. "Why are you even here? I thought you'd be in the shelters with your family."

"Wavebreaker is looking after Valiant," she replied, her glare not softening one iota. "I stayed behind to see if I could be of use against the Knights. And it's a good thing I did, because it looks like I've caught you. What have you done with the Air Commander?"

"Absolutely nothing!" Updraft snapped. "She wanted to go off on a personal mission, and she asked me to accompany her! I was just following orders!"

"Somehow I don't believe you," Stormrunner retorted. "Where is she? If you've so much as put a scratch on her-"

"When are you going to get it through your thick helm?!" Updraft shrieked, her voice climbing in pitch to match her growing rage. "I'm NOT after her position! I'm NOT the power-mad mech my creator was! I just wanted to help a friend!" Her fists clenched, and it was taking every last scrap of her self-control to not lunge across the room and deliver a blow right in Stormrunner's face...

"You two calm the frag down!" Scourge shouted, stepping forward to place himself between the two Seekers. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but I can vouch for Updraft. And Glory is fine - or at least, she was when she dropped us off here and left."

Stormrunner narrowed her optics further, reducing them to crimson slits. "I want proof… and until then, I want Updraft in custody."

Updraft sucked in a harsh intake. "You have no right. You're not an officer!"

"Soldiers can still take mechs in custody if they deem it necessary," Stormrunner retorted. "And in this case, I judge it necessary."

Updraft lurched forward, but clawed hands gripped her and held her in place. She both blessed and cursed Scourge for holding her back - she might have left a few dents in the black Seeker's plating otherwise.

"Both of you knock. This. Off." Scourge gave Updraft's arm a warning squeeze before releasing her. "This is NOT the time for this. Stormrunner, I don't know what your problem is with Updraft, but right now we've got terrorists, Quints, AND an escaped prisoner out there raising havoc! I'd say that takes priority over arresting a Seeker for something she didn't even do!"

Stormrunner's optics flared. "If you have no idea what's going on here, why are you even bothering to get involved?"

"Because we have bigger problems," Scourge retorted. "Both of you just cool your jets - figuratively - and let's go out there and see what we can do to help. Whatever your scrap is with Updraft, you can settle it afterwards."

Updraft vented deeply a few times, struggling to rein in her temper. "He's right. Cybertron's under attack. We have to go out there and help protect it. We can finish this AFTER this is all over if you want… though I want Glory to have her say before you demand my arrest."

Stormrunner looked as if she wanted to contest that, but she nodded sharply. "Agreed. We can start by defending the tower. The Knights haven't gotten this far yet, but I have no idea about the Quintesson drones."

Updraft nodded, and she followed Stormrunner and Scourge as they made their way to the nearest balcony. At least Scourge seemed willing to stand up for her. She just hoped Glory made it back in one piece, though. The Air Commander's testimony might be the only thing standing between her and Stormrunner's wrath at this point.

* * *

Blitzwing liked the five-faced Quintessons the best, he found. Not that he really liked any of these creatures - they were uglier than a Dinobot's skidplate, and knowing they regarded Cybertronians as objects and slaves made his fuel boil. But whenever he and Astrotrain encountered one of the biomechanical squids as they charged through the ship's corridors, he found himself secretly delighted when it proved to be of the five-faced variety rather than the single or double-faced specimens. Five faces meant a LOT more targets to punch, after all.

The single-faced Quint that tried to block their path to the ship's control room squalled in pain as his fist slammed into its jaw, breaking it. The thing made a grab for the triple-changer, tentacles working beneath his plating in an effort to pry pieces off, but Blitzwing gripped the limbs in both hands and used them to hurl the creature in Astrotrain's direction. Its outraged shriek was cut short as Astrotrain caught it on his sword, impaling it through the semi-organic face.

"Nice throw," Astrotrain told him, wiping his sword on his armguard.

"Still haven't lost the touch," Blitzwing grinned. "Let's go crash their party."

Two five-faced Quintessons manned the controls of the gunship, rotating rapidly between their multiple visages as they worked. A cluster of drones milled about just behind the two pilots, but at some unspoken signal they turned as one to regard the Decepticon intruders.

"Sharkticons, Allicons, destroy them!" one pilot rumbled. "These two have proven impossible to control - best to put them down and recycle them for parts."

The drones hissed and growled like a pack of feral turbohounds, shifting to their bestial alt modes as they approached the triple-changers. The sight might have made a lesser mech turn and run, but Blitzwing was having far too much fun at the moment to be afraid.

"Dibs on the squids," he declared.

"Are you kidding me?" Astrotrain retorted. "You've taken out the last three! At least let me take the one on the right! The uglier one!"

"Fine, whatever." Blitzwing whipped at the closest Allicon with his chain, sending it reeling back into the others. He wished he had his sword with him - it was a far more accurate weapon in his CPU - but this would do for now. Sometimes you just had to improvise on the battlefield.

The drones swarmed forward, snapping and clawing, some remaining in their squat robot modes to hammer at the triple-changers' shinguards with flails and fists. The two of them cut a swath through their attackers, sending fluids and scrap metal flying in all directions. The smaller drones might have the advantage of numbers… but the triple-changers were war machines, built and programmed for this very purpose, and they weren't about to be slowed down by Quintesson-built junk.

The pilot Astrotrain had called dibs on gave a wild howl as the gray mech rammed his blade through its bulbous body. Blitzwing drew his fist back, ready to unleash a far less merciful fate on the second pilot… but the Quintesson coiled a tentacle around a switch on the ship's console, one of its less fearsome faces swiveling around to address him.

"This ship is equipped with a self-destruct device," it hissed. "Harm me and I activate it. Do the two of you really wish to be vaporized?"

Blitzwing growled but lowered his fist. At one time he just might have attacked regardless of the threat, preferring a glorious deactivation in battle over the cowardice of surrender. But now he had a family, a family who would suffer deeply from his death, and he couldn't take that path.

"That's better. You CAN be reasoned with." The Quintesson flipped to a smug face that Blitzwing dearly wanted to punch, though it kept one tentacle tightly wrapped around the switch. "You two fight well - perhaps we can reach a compromise."

"Not interested," Astrotrain snapped, yanking his sword free of the dead Quint.

"Hear me out, Cybertronian," it continued. "We want our servants back… but so much time has passed since your kind last served us that they've forgotten how to behave themselves. We need overseers, mechanisms who can help us maintain order and discipline. You two could benefit greatly from filling that role for us."

Blitzwing barked out a harsh laugh. "You want us to be your stooges? What kinda deal is that?"

The Quintesson didn't smile, not exactly… but its eternal snarl seemed to soften a degree. "It would mean a degree of freedom for you… and for any you might be close to. Surely one of you has a mate, or young, that you wish to protect. They could enjoy the same freedom you do, if you but agree to join us."

Blitzwing dearly wanted to say he wasn't interested… but he gave the offer a moment's consideration anyhow. Taking the squid up on such an offer would make him the most hated mech on Cybertron… but it wasn't as if he had many friends anyhow. And if striking the bargain meant Glory and Swift were free of the chains of slavery, it just might be worth it…

 _But you're consigning every other mech - and sparkling - to a fate worse than death in the process. Glory and Swift might escape, but they would never forgive you for it._

He mulled the offer over a moment longer, then shoved it aside. "How about no, you stinking tin jellyfish? Shove that offer up your afterburners! Or whatever you got down there!"

The Quintesson's skullish "death" face flipped forward, its optics burning with hatred. "Then perish."

Something whirred through the air past Blitzwing… and the Quintesson found itself staring dumbly at the stump of its tentacle. Astrotrain's sword clanged to the floor half a second later, its blade streaked with fresh ichor… and the other triple-changer followed that attack up with a point-blank blast of his pistol right in the creature's bewildered optic.

"Who's hogging the kills now?" Blitzwing grumbled as the Quint collapsed to the floor.

"I didn't see YOU doing anything," Astrotrain retorted. "You know how to fly this wreck?"

"Nope. Don't YOU? You're the fraggin' space shuttle!"

"You turn into a tank, you know how to drive one?"

Blitzwing rolled his optics and opened his comm to the general frequency. _Blitzwing here. We've taken control of the Quint gunship over Polyhex but have no slaggin' idea how to fly it! Can we get some pointers on how to bring this thing down without takin' out a whole neighborhood?_

 _Hot Rod here,_ came the response. _Kup and I flew one of those things back during the Battle of Unicron. If you don't mind taking some pointers from an Autobot, I can coach you through it._

 _At this point I'll take pointers from anything that don't got tentacles or more than one face, kid,_ Blitzwing replied, parking himself in the pilot's chair - it was weirdy shaped and uncomfortable as Pit, but at the moment that wasn't exactly a high priority. _Start talking._

* * *

Of all the situations Glory could have faced upon returning to Cybertron, she hadn't expected this - to face down the leader of the Knights of Cybertron himself, alone save a wounded Optimus Prime. But after the initial shock had worn off, she realized she felt very little fear. Instead a terrible anger burned in her spark, anger at a mech who would spark a genocide to fuel his own horrific prejudices. Anger she could hopefully use to escape this encounter alive.

The mystery mech wore a mask not too dissimilar from Prime's, hiding most of his expression. But it was impossible for him to hide the gleam of sadistic pleasure in his optics as he kept his gun trained on Glory. And despite his monotone voice and his attempt to hold himself in a noble, heroic stance, his entire chassis seemed to twitch, just daring Glory to try to make a break for it so he could fill her back plating with holes.

" _You have some bolts after all,"_ the Knight commander noted. _"Here I thought you'd flee like a coward, trusting your thrusters to save your plating."_

"You're a fine one to talk about cowardice," she shot back before she could restrain herself. "Hiding behind your anonymous facade while others do your dirty work, striking from the shadows like a criminal."

The commander snarled, finger tightening on the trigger. _"Bold words from a Decepticon about to be slagged."_

Glory's gaze moved to the fallen Prime. His optics flickered with pain and oil streamed from an ugly wound in his abdomen, but the wound didn't look immediately fatal. Some part of her relaxed at that - she still didn't love the mech, but at least she wouldn't have to explain to Shockwave or an angry Autobot council that she'd let the legendary Prime die on her watch. If she got out of this confrontation alive, that was.

"You haven't slagged me yet," she retorted. "So I doubt you're going to do it now. What do you want from me?"

The Knight's optics narrowed. _"You have a lot of gall, Air Commander. But… yes. I have another purpose in mind for you. For unlike many of the Decepticon officers, you have, shall we say, baggage. A mate."_

Her spark lurched in its chamber. "Blitzwing… if you've put a scratch on him, I swear I'll-"

" _Cut me open with those blades of yours? Gut me like you did Cyclonus? Of course you Decepticons would immediately revert to the most violent option. But don't worry… the triple-changer is safe for the moment. Whether he remains so is up to you."_

Glory narrowed her optics. Somehow his words resonated in her memory banks… "What do you mean?"

" _I mean that I propose a trade - your life for Blitzwing's. We are perfectly happy to let him go if you will just surrender yourself to the Knights. Unless, of course, your tenure as Air Commander has left you too cold-sparked to care about your own conjux endura."_

Her fingers curled into fists. "You bastard."

" _Call me what you wish, but war means doing despicable things-"_

"The war is OVER!" she shrieked. "Don't you slagheads get it? The treaty was signed years ago! The Decepticons have done NOTHING to break it! Can't you accept that we want a peaceful Cybertron as much as the Autobots do?"

The mech's laughter came out warped, distorted by the speech modulator. _"What is it your precious Megatron always said? 'Peace Through Tyranny'? Your kind cares nothing about true peace - only conquest and destruction! It's only a matter of time before you decide the treaty is just so much scrap and rekindle the war for your own gain! The Knights know this! And if it takes war now to prevent a crueler war down the road, then so be it."_

Glory opened her mouth to retort… then shut it again. There was no point in arguing with this fanatic. No matter what she said, he would have a retort against it, digging his heels in and refusing to listen to reason. She was going to have to take a far more direct course of action.

" _I tire of this game,"_ he went on. _"So I'm only going to make this offer one more time. Surrender, and your bondmate goes free. Refuse, and we broadcast his death. It's your choice."_

Glory braced herself… and charged. Fire seared her shoulder as the leader of the Knights squeezed off a shot, but she gritted her dental plates and slammed into the mech, knocking him to the street. Funny, she had expected him to be heavy, but evidently most of that bulk was a result of the heavy mods.

"I take a third option," she told him. "I cut the head off the snake before it can poison Cybertron further."

The leader raised his gun again, but she struck it aside, the shot hitting a storefront and shattering the windows. She straddled him, grappling the gun out of his grip, then slashed across his chest with an armblade. The light metal parted easily, revealing the mech's true chassis beneath - and a gleam of green armor.

"You…" She grabbed the mask and wrenched it away. "Springer."

The young mech's face contorted in rage, and he swung an arm to knock her aside. "Snipers! Take her now!"

Glory grabbed Springer, clutching him close so his back was pressed to her chest. "Don't try it! Or he goes down too!"

Springer gave an ugly laugh. "You coward… using a hostage as a shield. You Decepticons really are the scum of the universe."

"We're not the ones trying to keep the war going," she snapped. "Why, Springer? You were there when the treaty was signed! You know we wanted the war to end as much as you did! Why keep it going?"

"Because I knew it wasn't truly the end," he retorted. "You Decepticons weren't really looking for peace - you were just biding your time, waiting until you'd built up your numbers enough to conquer the planet again. Someone had to stop you… and if Prime and the Council weren't going to do anything, I had to take matters into my own hands!"

"You're mad."

"I'm doing what's necessary. And if it means taking out a stubborn Air Commander and her family… so be it." He jerked his head back, slamming the crest of his helm against her wounded shoulder, and she cried out in pain and loosened her grip. He squirmed away and made a grab for his gun.

 _No!_ She lunged again, wrapping her arms around the Autobot. Keep him close… the snipers wouldn't risk a shot if it meant hitting their leader. She just had to keep him close and occupied until backup arrived…

Springer was smaller than her, clumsy from the excess mods, but he fought like a wild animal. He clawed at her optics and at her burned shoulder, gouged at her joints, kicked and stomped at her feet. She knew her share of dirty fighting tricks from the Stunticons, however, and though he left scratches in her paint and tore the wound in her shoulder wider she hung onto him. Pieces of his outer armor clattered to the street as he struggled, almost as if he were falling apart.

The roar of Seeker thrusters had never been so welcome. She tightened her grip on the squirming Autobot as a Sweep and two jets - one black and one red - opened fire on the sniper nests, chasing the Knights away from their vantage points. Updraft and Scourge… and was that Stormrunner? The flight instructor wasn't an active soldier, but perhaps she'd taken up her armguns again in the face of the current crisis…

Her radio crackled to life again - their shots must have also chased off whoever was jamming signals. Hot Rod's voice sounded over the general frequency, closely followed by another voice that made her spark leap with relief.

 _...then just bring her down gently. You got it, Blitz!_

 _Piece of oilcake. Now what do we do with this wreck?_

 _Just leave it for now. We'll figure out what to do with it later. Though maybe having an intact Quintesson ship for study'll help us fight them off better next time._

 _Next time maybe you Auto-dolts'll LISTEN when our commanders suggest we take action! Then maybe we wouldn't BE in this mess!_

 _Um… no comment..._

Glory grinned and tightened her hold on Springer. "It looks like your hostage managed to get away. No deal."

Springer squirmed in her grip. "You think this is over? The Knights will endure! There are too many of us, entrenched in every level of Autobot society! We will keep fighting-"

Whatever else Springer had to say was cut off as engines rumbled through the market square - Autobot reinforcements. First Aid rushed to Prime's side, crouching at his side to tend to his injury, while Streetwise and Groove pulled Springer out of Glory's grip and cuffed him.

"We've got him from here," Streetwise assured her.

Glory had to resist the urge to yank Springer away from them. "He's the leader of the Knights of Cybertron. His crimes were against the Decepticons. I'd say that falls under our jurisdiction."

"Sorry, we have our orders from the Council," Groove replied. "They want him in Autobot custody-"

"I must concur with my Air Commander," Shockwave interrupted, striding up at that moment - when had he shown up? "Springer saw fit to declare this attack an act of war. Therefore he shall be treated as a prisoner of war. The Decepticons will maintain custody of him until a date for a trial is set."

The two Protectobots exchanged a bewildered look, then turned to Prime for an answer. Glory didn't even bother to hide a roll of her optics. Could these Autobots not think for themselves?

"Shockwave is correct," Prime replied, wincing as First Aid welded a patch over his wound. "Springer will remain in the custody of the Decepticons for the time being."

Shockwave nodded, and motioned to Beatbox and Octane to take Springer away. "Rest assured he will come to no harm in our custody… at least not until his sentence is determined."

Prime nodded, and pushed himself to a sitting-up position. "The Knights and the Quintessons appear to be in full retreat. And we managed to not only capture the leader of the Knights but down several of the Quintesson gunships. All in all, I would call today a victory."

"Perhaps," Shockwave replied. "Though I would have preferred no battle at all in place of a costly victory." His tone was even, yet the implication of his words hung in the air anyhow.

Prime sighed. "You were right all along, Shockwave. The Quintessons were a much bigger threat than we realized-"

"There will be time for apologies later, Prime," Shockwave cut in. "I have something more pressing to attend to." He turned to face Glory. "Air Commander."

Glory saluted. "Lord Shockwave." Perhaps if she addressed him with as much respect as she could, she could escape from this without much punishment.

Evidently no amount of respect could delay Shockwave's inevitable words: "Air Commander Glory, you are hereby under arrest for desertion of your post."


	18. Consequences

It took a mech made of stronger stuff than ordinary alloy to stand up to an angry, frantic triple-changer and his wrath. But the guards at the Polyhex base didn't so much as flinch as Blitzwing stormed up to them, merely stepped forward to intercept him.

"You're not permitted inside until the hearing's over," one informed him.

"Frag you!" Blitzwing roared, raising a fist to clobber the guard. Only Steelwing's grip on his wrist kept him from unleashing the blow. "My bondmate's in there!"

"And she'll remain in there until Shockwave's through with her," the other guard replied coolly. "Until then you've been asked to remain outside. Officers only."

"Frag you!" Blitzwing repeated, and lunged forward… only for two sets of hands to pull him back.

"Primus dammit, Blitz, you're gonna get yourself arrested," Astrotrain growled, hauling him away from the base doors. "You want the kid to see you get hauled off again?"

Blitzwing thought of a few choice words he could say to his fellow triple-changer at that moment, but instead he forced himself to vent deeply and try to calm down. It didn't work, but at least it let him raise a mask of calm as a thin but workable shield to hide his fury. He didn't want to calm down, he wanted to burst into that building and drag Glory out of the clutches of High Command before they could punish her… even if doing so would just earn them both a worse punishment...

"Easy, Blitz," Steelwing urged. "There's nothing we can do right now. We just have to trust Shockwave makes the right decision."

"And what the slag is the 'right decision' right now?" Blitzwing retorted. "She's a deserter. That's a death sentence!"

"Maybe it was during the war, but the war's over," Steelwing pointed out. "She's looking at prison time at the very worst."

"That's comforting," he snarled. "I ain't lettin' her rust in prison either! We gotta bust her out somehow!"

"We are NOT plotting a jailbreak, you crazy trip," Steelwing snapped. "Just cool your thrusters and wait with the rest of us! Shockwave's not completely sparkless; he'll hear her out and take her family into consideration before making a decision. Until then, try to relax before you burst something."

With a growl he wrenched away from Steelwing and Astrotrain and stalked back into the crowd. He and his companions were hardly the only mechs waiting for news of the Air Commander's fate - the Stunticons and several of the Seekers and other fliers, including Stormrunner and Updraft, had gathered before the base, their expressions bearing varying degrees of anger and worry. Even Scourge of all mechs was there, earning strange looks from most of the Decepticons but bearing them resolutely.

Smoke still hung over most of Polyhex like a sinister fog, an all-too-visible testament to the hard battle they had fought that day. Rescue crews, medevacs, and fire patrols still combed the city for blazes and wounded, and both Decepticon soldiers and Autobot police mechs were still butting up against pockets of resistance from the few remaining Knights of Cybertron and rogue Sharkticon drones. The city still reeled, freshly wounded after having just barely recovered from the scars of the Great War.

Wounded, perhaps, but not crippled. For though it had been a hard battle, they had won. The Knights had been vanquished and the Quintessons run off for the time being, maybe even for good unless they were stupid enough to try again.

That thought should have pleased Blitzwing… but now he only felt anger and a terror he would never confess to feeling. The two femmes he held dear were out of his reach, and the thought of harm coming to either of them had his CPU raving in panic.

"Will you stop twitching?" Steelwing demanded. "Mechs are watching. They think you're about ready to snap and rip out someone's fuel lines with your dental plates."

"I don't care what they think," Blitzwing snarled. "Glory's under arrest and Primus knows where Swift is. Don't keep tellin' me to calm down and stop twitchin'."

"We're all worried about the kid, all right?" Motormaster snapped. "But you don't see us freakin' out like sparklings over it. Chill already."

"The Stunticon's tellin' me to chill," Blitzwing grumbled. "What's next, Swindle tellin' me money's the root of all evil?" He scowled. "Where were YOU when the fightin' was goin' down anyhow? Didn't see Menosar out there." Come to think of it, he hadn't seen any of the gestalts on the battlefield. Even Bruticus had been absent, despite Onslaught and most of his team joining in the fight.

Motormaster reached down and squeezed Ricochet's shoulder. "Stayin' with Ricky in one of the shelters. Since we're all listed as his guardians, that kept us outta the fight."

"An' believe us, that was rough," Dragstrip added. "But at least we're still in one piece for the kid's sake."

Blitzwing's visor flickered in surprised. It hadn't occurred to him that he was far from the only mech held back from the battlefield by a sparkling. Perhaps they had more in common than he realized - not that he wanted to start hanging out with Motormaster and his band of loonies on a regular basis or anything.

His optics rested on a trio of fliers lurking off to the side - Scourge, Stormrunner, and Updraft. The two Seekers were talking in low tones, and though Blitzwing was too far away to make out the words, he could see their wings gradually dip as they conversed, as if tension was slowly draining away. Scourge listened to the discussion for a few moments, then seemed to realize he was being watched and stepped forward to meet the triple-changer.

"You're back," Blitzwing noted.

"Obviously," Scourge replied, smirking a little. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah. Take it Glory brought you back."

"In a sense." Scourge shrugged, batlike wings shifting with the gesture. "She came to the colony where I'd settled to talk to me about her uncle. When we got news that Cybertron was facing an imminent Quintesson attack, she left to join the fight… and I decided to follow. Even if my fellow Decepticons still hate me, I should still do something to protect our kind, right?"

Blitzwing snorted. "Who said anyone hated you? Sure, you Sweeps look like you got run over by Dinobots, but at least you weren't lunatics like Galvatron or boot-kissin' lackeys like Cyclonus. Maybe we didn't LIKE you, but we didn't hate you."

Scourge's expression clouded as he tried to puzzle out whether this was a compliment or an insult. "There's that, I suppose."

"So… was she right?" Blitzwing asked. "Were you really Thundercracker?" Might as well figure out if Glory's misadventure had been worth the trouble it caused.

"Evidently I was," Scourge replied. " _Was_ being the key word - I ceased to be Thundercracker the moment I was forged from his remains. But… I still hold some of his memories. His CPU wasn't fully cleared before I was sparked in this body."

Blitzwing stared. He hadn't quite expected that. Then again, he'd pretty much expected Glory to come back from her search empty-handed and disappointed. He hadn't expected her to bring the Sweep commander back, much less with some piece of her uncle still in his chassis.

"What's up with those two?" he asked, changing the subject.

Scourge glanced back at the red and black Seekers, who were finishing up their discussion and watching the base doors expectantly. "Stormrunner bears a grudge against Updraft, and she had accused her of trying to abduct the Air Commander. At the moment, though, I think both of them are too worried about Glory's fate to carry on hating each other."

Blitzwing couldn't exactly blame them. It was a little hard to focus on holding a grudge when the fate of someone you cared about was at stake…

"Daddy!"

At the sound of that familiar cry he whirled. "Swift!"

Swift broke free from Swindle and Knock Out to rush Blitzwing, wrapping her arms around his legs. At any other time Blitzwing might have grumbled something about not being so mushy in public, but at the moment he didn't give a flying frag - he dropped to his knees and hugged her tightly to his chest. He didn't even care that Wildfire was nosing and sniffing at him as he clung to the little sparkling.

"Swift, you're all right," he murmured. "You're safe…"

"Daddy, are you okay?" she whimpered. "Did they hurt you?"

"I'm okay," he assured her. "Are YOU okay?"

Swift nodded against his shoulder. "I stayed with Knock Out and Breakdown. And we went to the shelters to hide… and Galvatron showed up!"

His entire chassis jerked in response to those words. "Oh frag…"

"And Wildfire fought him!" she went on, heedless of his moment of panic. "He fought him and he beat him! He saved all of us!"

Blitzwing gaped at the bodyguard in shock. Wildfire stared back with a stoic expression on his equine face… and only then did he notice the flecks of energon spattering his red-and-gold armor. So the big lug was worth keeping around after all - and honestly, he felt that whatever punishment Wildfire had dealt towards Galvatron was richly deserved.

"Daddy… where's Mommy? Is she back yet?"

"I…" Blitzwing grimaced and hugged Swift even more tightly. "She'll be back soon, sweetspark. We just gotta wait a little longer."

"How long?"

"I don't know… but hopefully not too long."

Behind him, relieved chatter filled the air as Updraft greeted her family, embracing them and assuring them she was okay. At least one family got a happy ending today, he figured. He just hoped they wouldn't be the only ones.

* * *

Glory had expected this conversation to take place in a brig cell. She hadn't expected it to take place in the conference room, with Soundwave and Optimus Prime present as well as Shockwave. She could almost imagine it was just another of the endless meetings she'd grown used to as an Air Commander… almost, if she could just ignore the cuffs binding her wrists.

"I am greatly disappointed in your behavior, Air Commander Glory," Shockwave noted, his voice collected as always but barely concealing a great deal of anger and frustration.

"I'm deeply sorry, sir," she replied. That was mostly true - guilt at abandoning Cybertron and those she loved at such a critical time ate at her like a hungry sparkeater. But at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to fully regret her decision. Not when it had provided answers to some burning questions, and helped her unite Emperor Deszaras with his missing conjux.

"You disobeyed a direct order," Shockwave continued, pacing before the conference table with his hand and gun-arm behind his back. "You were explicitly told not to leave the planet while the Quintesson crisis still loomed, and yet you chose to leave regardless… leaving us short a valuable officer in the moment of crisis. Your actions are entirely inexcusable."

"She could hardly have predicted that both the Quintessons and the Knights of Cybertron would choose to attack at the same time during her absence," Prime pointed out. "Perhaps she was irresponsible, but it wasn't as if she planned to be gone during the attacks."

"Nevertheless, she was still absent without leave when she was most needed," Shockwave retorted, swiveling his head to glare at the Autobot Commander. "This is a matter for the Decepticon High Command to settle, Optimus Prime. You are not needed here."

"Glory deserves to have someone speak in her defense," Prime replied.

Glory wanted to snap at the Prime that she was fully capable of defending herself, but she held her vocalizer. He was just trying to help, even if it wouldn't do much good… and he HAD saved her life and the lives of three of her Seekers during the battle. As much as she wanted to hate the mech for killing her uncle, he certainly made it hard to hold a grudge against him.

Soundwave remained silent, his gaze moving between Shockwave and Glory from time to time. It was as if he felt compelled to choose a side in this argument, and was weighing his options. As Shockwave's second-in-command he should have supported him… but he had also subtly urged Glory to take off in the first place, which meant siding against her would be hypocritical.

 _I hope, for his own sake as well as Echo and Stardust's, he sides with Shockwave,_ Glory found herself thinking. _If Shockwave decides to punish him for encouraging me in all this, what's going to happen to the sparklings in his charge?_

"If I recall correctly, prior Air Commanders have done far worse than abandon their posts in the past," Prime continued. "Starscream in particular got away with some outrageous behavior. Glory seems quite well-behaved in comparison, even taking this incident into account. Why is she being judged so much more harshly?"

"Because unlike prior Decepticon Commanders, I do not allow such outrageous behavior to take place," Shockwave replied firmly. "I expect obedience from my officers, and treachery of any form is not tolerated."

Glory tried to bite her words back, but they escaped anyhow: "Since when was taking off for a week the same thing as plotting a hostile takeover?"

Prime snorted behind his mask. Shockwave just glowered at her, headfins twitching.

"I placed a great deal of faith in you when I gave you the title of Air Commander, Glory," he went on. "And you chose to break that faith. If you have anything to say in your defense, say it now before I decide on your punishment."

She drew her shoulders up and regarded him as if she were still his officer and not a prisoner. "I have no defense, sir, save that I felt it was important to leave. You're right - I have no excuse for abandoning my post, and a personal issue wasn't worth putting Cybertron in jeopardy. I left our aerial forces without a leader, and there's no excusing that."

Shockwave's headfins flicked once in brief amusement before pinning flat again. "You're supposed to be speaking in your own defense, not condemning yourself."

"I don't see any reason to lie," she countered. "But at the same time, the Prime's right - I had no reason to believe that the Knights of Cybertron or the Quintessons were going to attack so soon, or that the Knights would break Galvatron out of prison at the same time. I was irresponsible, but I didn't deliberately put Cybertron in jeopardy. I just ask that you take that into account before you discipline me."

"Intention does not negate the consequences," Shockwave replied. "You did not intend to leave us with a crisis on our hands, but you did so regardless. Your argument is irrelevant."

"Not irrelevant," Soundwave cut in. "Difference between negligence and willfully seeking to cause harm. Lesser sentence: recommended."

Shockwave looked as if he dearly wanted to argue that point, but decided against it. "Whatever you were searching for that led you to abandon your post, Glory, I hope you found it… and that you believe it is worth the price."

Glory only nodded in reply.

Prime, for whatever reason, seemed bound and determined to leap to her defense one last time. "Glory is young - one of the youngest Air Commanders to have ever served the Decepticons. Take that into account as well. Young mechs often make rash decisions, and she's no exception."

"I plan to take it into account," Shockwave replied. "In fact, her youth is one of the deciding factors in her punishment."

Glory tensed, wings hitching higher. "What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean that effective immediately, you are stripped of your rank," Shockwave replied. "I hereby demote you to the rank of Airmech, and rescind the privileges and title of Air Commander."

Glory knew she should have felt devastated at that news - and so felt more shocked that she WASN'T devastated than anything else. "Yes, sir… what else?"

Shockwave's headfins flicked again. "That will be all. As others have said, you did not intend to leave us during a crisis and so cannot be held responsible for it." He gave Prime and Soundwave pointed looks before returning his attention to the Seeker. "You may choose to remain in the air forces as a common soldier, with the chance of regaining your rank in the future. Or you may request a discharge. The decision is yours."

"I… do I have to decide now?" she blurted.

"You have a decacycle to make your decision. Choose wisely. And be warned that if you opt for civilian life, you will lose the opportunity to regain your title unless you choose to re-enlist."

She stared at the violet mech, trying to process what she'd heard. She'd expected him to haul her off to the correctional facility or at least cool her heels for a few orns in the brig. She hadn't expected him to strip her title from her.

And in all honesty, the demotion came not as a punishment, but as an incredible relief. It was as if he'd lifted a massive burden from her back, leaving her a thousand tons lighter. She had never craved power, and though she took her responsibilities seriously she couldn't help but resent how they ground her down. Shockwave's punishment might have been intended to burden her, but it felt more like he had broken her chains.

"Soundwave, uncuff her," Shockwave ordered.

Soundwave nodded, and he unlocked her cuffs. It might have been her imagination, but she swore she saw one side of his visor darken in a wink before he stepped away.

"Dismissed, Airmech Glory."

She saluted, then turned on her heel and strode out with as much dignity as she could muster - which wasn't much, as she still felt shaky after Shockwave's announcement. Footsteps sounded after her, and she wondered which mech had chosen to follow her out.

"Air Co- Glory, I mean."

She sighed softly and slowed her pace. "Yes, Optimus Prime?"

"You handled yourself well in there," the Autobot leader told her, matching her pace as they made for the lift. "I'm proud of you."

Glory took in a deep intake and let it out slowly before replying. "I know I was the youngest Air Commander in history, Prime, but you don't need to coddle me. I'm an adult, and I can take care of myself."

He let out a deep sigh of his own as they stepped into the lift. "I know… but I admit it's difficult to look at you without thinking about the little sparkling that spend a few days at the Ark before we returned her to her family. I have to remind myself that you're fully upgraded and have a family now."

She nodded, her CPU drifting back to that time… and she couldn't help but smile a little. She had been so terrified at the time, convinced the Autobots were vicious monsters, but looking back they had been surprisingly gentle with her. Even then, she should have recognized that the war hadn't been about good guys vs. bad guys, but just two opposing factions trying to fight for what they believed was right.

Prime sighed again, gazing down at the floor of the lift. "Glory… I owe you an apology."

"No, Prime… I owe you one," she told him. "I've kept holding a grudge against you for killing my uncle, even though you've apologized countless times. I… I don't know if I'll ever fully forgive you, and I still miss him terribly. But I promise I'll try not to be angry with you, at least in public."

Prime's gaze lifted, and a smile tilted the corners of his optics. "Thank you, Glory. Though that wasn't what I was going to apologize for. I should never have insisted you be made Air Commander - I knew it was a heavy responsibility, and it was wrong of me to demand it be laid on your shoulders. You deserved a chance to choose your own destiny, not have it decided for you."

Glory had never expected those words to come out of the Prime's vocalizer… and she hadn't realized how much she needed to hear them until this moment. "You are making it very hard to hate you, Prime."

"I should hope so… believe it or not, I don't like to make enemies." He nodded at her as the lift doors slid open. "Take care of yourself, Glory. And say hello to Swift for me."

"I will."

* * *

She barely made it out the base doors before someone grabbed her by the shoulders. She gasped, fully prepared to release her arm blades and defend herself, before Blitzwing pulled her into his arms in a crushing hug.

"Fraggit, Glory, don't you scare me like that," he murmured. "I thought… I thought we were gonna lose you."

She wrapped her arms around him in return, tucking her face against his chest. "You're all right… thank Primus. When I heard the Knights had you, I feared the worst."

Blitzwing squeezed her tightly. "Next time you jaunt off to find a long-lost family member, we're making it a family trip. I'm not letting you out of my sight for a long time." He pulled back, frowning down at her. "Unless you gotta report for a prison sentence or something…"

"No… I've been demoted. I'm no longer Air Commander."

His visor flared at that. "That's… that's a good thing, right? Or bad? I never know anymore…"

"Mama!" Swift had been huddled with Stardust and Echo, anxiously awaiting their parents' return, but rushed over with her arms outstretched. "Mama, you're back!"

"Swift…" She bent down and lifted the blue sparkling in her arms, hugging her tightly. "Yes, I'm back, Swift. I'm not going away again for a long time, I promise."

Swift pulled back and looked at Glory with such comical seriousness it took all her strength not to laugh. "Promise, Mama?"

"I promise," she assured her.

"Even for work?"

"Even for work." She patted her back. "Are you ready to go home?"

Swift nodded, then hesitated and shook her head. "Home's not safe anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"The Knights attacked the apartment," Blitzwing explained. "It… it might be a good idea for us to find a new place. Just so we- she can be rid of the bad memories."

Glory caught the slip, but decided to let it slide. Bad enough that Astrotrain and Octane would probably rib him for vorns over his abduction by the Knights; she wouldn't wound his pride any more than it already was.

"We'll go apartment-hunting soon," she told them both. "In the meantime… perhaps we'll find a hotel."

"No need for that."

Glory turned to see Knock Out grinning at them. She wondered just how much of their conversation the Velocitronian had overheard - and judging by his smile, he wasn't apologetic about it in the least.

"How's Updraft?" she asked.

"Perfectly fine," Knock Out replied. "There was some tension earlier, but that seems to have been resolved. In the meantime… the three of you need a place to stay?"

"We can't impose…" Glory insisted.

"Oh, I insist," Knock Out cut in. "You're friends of my daughter, and Swift has already been a quite charming guest for the last few days. You're quite welcome to stay with us until you find a new place. Even your daughter's pet is welcome, provided it leaves my finish alone."

Glory's wings drooped in relief. "Thank you. This means more to us than you can know."

"Oh, Dad's just eager to have another sparkling under his roof," Updraft noted with a bit of a smirk. "Glory… I'm glad you're okay. I hope I didn't get you into too much trouble."

"You didn't… I got myself in trouble," Glory assured her. "I hope I didn't get YOU in trouble."

"There was a misunderstanding," Stormrunner admitted, and Glory swore she'd never seen the black Seeker look so guilty. "I… I made an assumption about why you'd disappeared, and held Updraft responsible. I… apologize. It won't happen again, Air Commander."

"Please… just Glory," Glory replied. "I'm no longer Air Commander."

Updraft, Stormrunner, and Knock Out stared at her with identical looks of shock. Then Stormrunner shook her head and folded her arms over her chest. "I'll go talk to Shockwave. He may be a genius, but he's an idiot for demoting you over this-"

"Stormrunner, no," Glory ordered. "I'm… I'm actually okay with it. I'm not a mech who's happy with a leadership position, to be honest. You'd just get yourself in trouble if you tried to plead my case."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Updraft nodded, though she still looked unsure. "What will you do now?"

That was the burning question… and Glory had no idea how to answer it. Her demotion hadn't limited her, but had opened up an entire realm of possibilities for her. She could make her way up the ranks to a position she felt comfortable with, she could remain a soldier and continue to fight to protect Cybertron, she could step away from the military entirely and start a business or attend university, she could let Blitzwing re-enlist and simply stay at home with Swift…

Blitzwing's hand rested on her shoulder, lightly squeezing. "I think the first order of business is a vacation of some kind. Primus knows we ain't had one in a long time. And it'll give you time to decide."

Glory smiled at him. "You know… that's a wonderful idea. Once we've found a new apartment, we'll plan a trip somewhere. Get away for awhile."

Blitzwing nodded. "I hear Beta Geode's nice."

She made a face. "I think if I show my face there again Bulldog will have my wings mounted on his wall. How about Earth? I'd love to show Swift the oceans."

"That mudball? Kid, I know you romanticized that place when you lived there, but it was a fraggin' pit to the rest of us 'Cons…"

Wildfire let out a snort and pawed the ground impatiently, breaking off the conversation.

"Yes, boy, we're going home," Glory told him, setting Swift down. "Or a home between homes for right now. Let's just head back and pack our things first."

The drone snorted again, satisfied, and nosed Swift gently before falling in step at her side. Glory laced her fingers through Blitzwing's and followed the sparkling and her bodyguard. A new future lay before her, one glittering with possibility… and it was hers to decide. The thought was terrifying yet liberating, and she hoped to be able to make the most of it.


End file.
